Domestic
by TheGirlWithTheDinosaurTattoo
Summary: Dean, Grace, Sam, and Serra Winchester are comfortable in their domesticated, monster-hunting free life. Too bad it can't seem to stay that way. ("Domestic" immediately follows "Hunted" in my series, is the sixth story in my Winchester Ranch series) Enjoy! Rated T for language and sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

Note: This story takes place after "Hunted" in my series. Please enjoy the fluffiness of Winchester happiness.

...

Chapter 1

Dean

I've never needed much sleep. Four hours is all I really need to function and if I get five or six, I'm gold. Since I've known her, Grace has needed more. She sleeps soundly too, usually on her side or her belly, her breathing is rhythmic and comforting. I've watched her for two years, sleeping my fill and then I'm up before the sun, just staring at the beautiful creature lying next to me. Most of the time, I don't believe she's real.

The Winchester line didn't stop like I thought it would, dying out with Sam and me. I'm a father. It's still weird to say, or even think, but there she is, in the flesh, lying next to me on her belly, mimicking her mother as she breathes softly.

If you told me that I would be a husband and father three years ago, I would have told you that you were drunk or crazy, but here I am, watching my wife and kid sleep next to me. I don't know where I went right, but I still have a hard time believing that I deserve any of it.

Three years ago, Grace found me, completely broken. I was on my last legs…between The Mark of Cain and the fact that felt like I had nothing left, I planned on drinking until my liver gave out, just so I wouldn't have to pull the trigger myself. She saw through whatever front I kept trying to put up and took down my walls, a piece at a time. I was floored that a girl like her would be interested in a guy like me.

We're drawn to each other, like magnets, and I knew right from the beginning of our relationship that we'd go down hard; crash-and-burn-style for each other and at first, I panicked. There was no way I could get close to someone like that.

And then we had pie.

…..

I hung up the phone with a girl I just met and shook my head. "What the fuck am I doing?" I couldn't help saying it out loud. Sam would be pissed at me, thinking that I could get into a relationship with someone I might kill, but here I was, inviting her on a day date to get pie. I rubbed the pain out of my arm, glancing down at the sonofabitch that was branded there. I loathed it with everything I was.

Just this morning, I woke up, sweaty and fucking pissed for no particular reason. It was The Mark. It was always The Mark. I knocked over a bookcase and Sam just stared until I calmed down, then I couldn't even bring myself to apologize to him. I was becoming a real jerk.

Grabbing my keys, I tossed them to myself as I walked down the hall of the BatCave. "Where are you going?" I heard Sam's voice from his room as I walked by.

"I'm gonna go have some pie," I said, trying to avoid any details.

Sam puffed air at me, predictably. "Pie. With who?"

"A girl."

…..

I remember fighting a lot that day with my dumbass brother, yelling profanities at each other about "keeping the civilian population safe." Then I made the mistake of telling Sammy that I thought she was a hunter and a psychic…man. That didn't go well either. As I left for my date with Grace, I knew he was hoping that I wouldn't call him, asking him to help bury a body. Somehow, I knew that I wouldn't— I couldn't hurt her.

I've never been on a day date with a girl, not expecting to get laid. Really, when I picked her up, I was bent on nice conversation with the beautiful thing. Before I knew it, we were making out in the parking lot and I just lost myself in her. I just kept thinking to myself, _Jesus, if this is what she looks like in sweats and a hoodie…_ I couldn't get enough. The next thing I knew, we were tiptoeing through the BatCave to get to my room because, well, they frown upon having sex in a parked car at a restaurant in the middle of the day.

From then on, I was hooked. Well, not really. It was before that. I was addicted to Grace when I asked her what she saw when she touched me. She smiled that glorious smile and said, "Call me."

Now, here I am, living a normal life with a wife and a kid and a real job with a mortgage. The Mark of Cain has all but disappeared off of my arm because Grace absorbs it being what she is. Yeah, I married a half-angel. All I can do is shake my head…I wish I could go back in time to tell my twenty-six year-old self that I would end up marrying something that he would have tried to kill. I say 'tried' because let's face it; if it came to blows, Grace could kick my ass four times before I hit the floor. So much has changed in such a short amount of time…it's times like this that I really miss mom. We were monster hunters…saving people, hunting things…the family business. But now? It's fixing the leaky pipe under the house and getting to work on time after being up all night with a teething newborn, and I love every goddamned minute.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Dean

"Babe!" Grace's voice came down the stairs like she needed something.

I brought my cup of coffee with me to stand at the base of the steps. "What, Gracie?"

"Please tell me there are more baby wipes in that bag in the mudroom."

Walking in just my socks over to the pile of still-full grocery bags, I pulled them open and looked for a new package of baby wipes. "Yeah, you need 'em?"

"Yes, please. Libby pooped over everything and she's on the table. I can't walk away," Grace yelled again, still from Lib's room. I started up the stairs, still holding my cuppa Joe and walked into my daughter's room.

"Oh, man," I said, taking a step back. "What the hell?"

Grace closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. "I think it's the solids she's eating. I can't…I can barely breathe."

I laughed, pulling my shirt up over my nose and mouth. Handing Grace the new pack of wipes, I stared down at Liberty, her fist in her mouth with drool everywhere. "Meatloaf, you stink." She was happy to see me, kicking her feet and making it hard for Grace to clean her up. I came closer and held her feet in the air while Grace finished cleaning her up and started laughing again.

"This is awful," Grace was saying through her own giggles. "It's embarrassing, Lib. Seriously, you're a lady. Control yourself."

Lib babbled to herself and waited as Grace put a clean diaper on and changed her clothes. I glanced at Grace to try and gauge her reaction as I asked, "How you feel about today?" She avoided my stare as she did when she was trying to hide something from me. It didn't happen too often, but when it did, I could see right through her. Today was Gracie's first day back after an almost seven-month maternity leave and just by her body language, there was no lying about it; she was dreading it. Grace shook her head, trying to stay silent, but I reached out and touched her chin, lifting slightly so I could see her blue eyes. "Gracie," I repeated softly. Her eyes filled with tears, which almost always caused me physical pain. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. "Come on," I said quietly, "she'll be okay. You'll be okay. Jody is stoked to take care of her all day."

"I know," Grace answered from my chest, "but she's mine. I should be with her."

I set my cup down on Lib's dresser and scooped her up and put her back in her crib. Turning to face Grace, I took her by the shoulders and stared at her, raising my eyebrows from effect. "I offered to keep you barefoot and pregnant and home with her, but you so graciously declined."

Grace giggled. I was getting somewhere.

"You said that you loved your job, and that you weren't gonna be one of those girls that wasted their education being a stay-at-home-mom," I grinned at her, knowing that spilling her words back at her was my best ammunition. She rolled her eyes. I had almost won.

"It'll be fine, love," I said, kissing her on the forehead again. "Jody knows what she's doing and Lib's not going to forget you. She'll be stoked to see you when you get home."

Gracie sighed and nodded, wiping her face. Victory. I picked up my cup, watched Grace as she picked up Libby and we all headed back down stairs together, Jody greeting us as she came to the top of the basement steps. We had worked out quite an arrangement with Jody and she had finished moving in by the New Year. The move wasn't permanent, but I wouldn't mind if it was. We had a giant house, bigger than we needed. It would have been a shame to waste the space.

"Morning, Jody," I greeted as she followed me into the kitchen. "How's the apartment working out?"

Jody grinned, patting my shoulder. "It's fantastic, Dean," she said. "The tub is a great addition."

I nodded and smiled my thanks. "I'm full of good ideas. Just not the money to fund all of them."

Money had been tight the last few months since Grace had been on leave and wasn't getting paid on the regular. Between the new house, new baby and replacing two complete sets of classic car window glass from the little battle with Crowley, we were strapped.

Gracie and me both knew what it was like to be poor. We both grew up hunting and having a younger sibling to care for. We both knew what it was like to go hungry to make sure the other ate and being a little low on cash now was not something that scared me. I was a legit career man now anyway. The vintage car mechanics shop I worked for kept food on the table and a roof over our heads and Grace's paycheck would put us way back into the black; no more debt and no concern about getting enough diapers or formula. Secretly, we were both happy she was going back to work; we felt like spoiled rich kids when we had two paychecks.

Jody took Lib as Grace poured herself a cup a coffee. I watched her move; the sway of her hips and the flick of her blonde hair, reliving the night before. I'm not gonna lie; I've had a lot of sex, with a lot of different women, but Grace…she's electric. I don't think Sammy believed that I would stay monogamous, but there's no way in hell I could find anyone better than Grace. I think he's seen my side now that he's married to her little sister.

I know what you're going to say: "You and your brother married a set of sisters?"

Dude, trust me, it wasn't from a lack of options, and for awhile, Sammy wanted nothing to do with either of them, but Lucky is pretty convincing when she wants something.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Sam

I hate it when Dean is right. It doesn't happen very often, but occasionally, my big brother gets it. "You should date her sister," he said, "Come on, just make out with her," he told me, "she's so into you." I resisted for weeks, still so wary of Dean in a relationship. I was convinced that it would end, that Dean would lose interest or she would be crazy, but Grace is completely sane and Dean was obsessed. After the first month (the longest I had ever witnessed Dean being in a voluntary long-term relationship) I began to believe that they might work and after the third…well. I let my guard down and bought in to Dean and Grace as a couple.

With my walls down, I was able to pay closer attention to Grace's sister who harbored a crush on me from the beginning. I first met her the night she was taken by the rougarou. We rescued her, cleaned up the sisters' house and hung out with them to make sure everything had been alright. Dean had only been with Grace a matter of hours, but here we were, saving people and hunting things. It was in our nature, and honestly, that was the last time I thought I would see either one of them, but like I said, Dean was hooked.

Serendipity and I had spent that first night on the couch together, innocently enough, but I knew that she was into me. I had a hard time looking away myself, but I refused to give in, considering at that time, I figured we'd be moving on sooner rather than later.

I know exactly when I began seeing Serra in a completely new light: It had been a week or so before Grace had the vision about being attacked by that asshole stalker, three months after Dean and Grace started their relationship. Serra had been dancing in the kitchen, blasting "Paradise City" as she made dinner for herself and it was like I was staring at a piece of a puzzle that I didn't know I was missing. She rendered me breathless. I remember her turning as Axl Rose blew his whistle and I couldn't imagine continuing my life without her. She smiled at me, seeing me watch her dance, and I didn't give her any warning as I suddenly strode across the kitchen and cupped her face with my hands and kissed her deeply. Serra reciprocated immediately, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulled herself closer.

We made love in on the kitchen floor that afternoon as Serra's pasta pot boiled over. I remember laughing as she rolled the mat she had been standing on to cook into a pillow and shoved it under her head. "What took you so long?" she asked as I brushed her auburn hair out of her face, staring into her eyes.

I shook my head, completely at a loss. "I have no idea," I told her, smiling. "Forgive me?"

Serra tilted her head and thought about it. "I don't know," she teased. "We'll see."

Now, here we were, three years later, married and moving into our first house together soon. We were leaving for our official honeymoon in a few days; our last one had been rudely interrupted by Crowley. He had possessed Serra and attempted to bait Grace and Dean into leaving Libby (our amazing niece) alone, unprotected. We drove out to Sutton Cemetery searching for Serra (yeah, I know, back where I threw Lucifer back into the cage all those years ago) and Grace risked her own life getting Crowley out of Serra and locking him in her own body. My brother and I were convinced that we would lose Grace forever after that; taking Crowley on from the inside was not something that the human body could go through and come out on top. Luckily for us, Grace is not entirely human. I've done a lot of research on my sister-in-law and the word "nephilim" is not something that comes up a lot in the lore. Long story short? Her kind are descendents of Cain (yeah, _that_ Cain) and she was conceived while an angel used her mother as a vessel, making her half human and half angel. _That_ was an interesting conversation.

Since going back to school, I've had an entire university library at my fingertips as well as the Men of Letters collection to try and find out more about my new family. The classes I take are more me just going through the motions and earning credits towards my degree, considering I usually know more about the subject matter than most of my professors. I abandoned any hopes of being a lawyer…I've changed too much since those days with Jessica. I've declared my major as religious studies and am constantly surrounded by men and women who have dreams of becoming members of the clergy. I've altered many opinions by opening my mouth about my own beliefs and experiences. I try to be respectful and abstain from getting involved in debates about religion, but when you're in as deep as we are, it's hard to avoid.

Class was ending one afternoon and I was still shoving my books and notes into my bag as my professor approached me. "Winchester, right?"

I glanced up, confused. My World Religions class professor had never taken an interest in me before. She smiled and stared down at me as I closed my bag and stood up to my full height. "Yeah," I said, nodding. "Hi, Professor."

She smiled back at me, extending her hand. "Please, my name is Kathleen." I shook her hand, not really knowing where she was headed, but my curiosity was piqued, so I let her continue. "I've noticed that you're…well versed in what we discuss here in class. I feel like you've studied so much of the content before."

I made a face, trying to be truthful without sounding like a freak. "I've done a lot of independent research," I finally answered, happy with my choice of words.

Kathleen nodded and smiled. She glanced at my left and frowned slightly. "Happily?"

"Excuse me?" I said, completely lost.

She nodded towards my hand again, "You're married, but are you _happily_ married?"

Furrowing my eyebrows and stepping back from her, I nodded. "Uh, yeah. Very happily." I glanced down at my ring and shook my head, thinking that Serra would have slapped this woman across the face if she had heard this.

"That's too bad," Kathleen said, smiling seductively at me, "we have a lot in common."

Serra wouldn't have slapped her. She would have closed-fist punched her.

"Look, I gotta go," I said, taking another step back and skipping down the steps towards the exit.

I practically ran back to my El Camino, knowing that if that interaction went any farther than it already had, Serra would have a coronary. She's not a jealous person, so to speak, but she is very protective of members of her family. A few weeks ago, she practically came across a table at a woman at a restaurant that rolled her eyes because Libby cried for a few minutes during dinner. It's just the way she is and I love her more for it.

Driving home, Sere texted me to let me know she was on her way home from work and would pick something up for dinner if I wanted. Dean called at almost the exact same time, so I answered the phone accidentally, trying to text Serra back.

"Dude, Sam, you there?" Dean's voice came over the speaker before I realized what had happened.

Holding the phone to my ear, I rolled my eyes. "Hey, man. I was trying to text Serra. What's up?"

"Come over for dinner tonight," he said, obviously eating something while on the phone with me. "Grace's first day back was today and I wanna distract her as much as possible."

"Yeah, alright," I answered, tilting my head. "Did you call Serra?"

"Oh, you're not with her?" Dean asked, pausing, probably, to look at his watch, confused as to what day it is. I had been back in school for three years and he still didn't really know my schedule. "No, I haven't talked to her yet."

"Well, lemme call her and I'll call you back."

"Alright, whatever. Steaks!" he yelled. Then Dean was gone, hanging up the phone before I had a chance to say anything else.

I shook my head, still trying to concentrate on driving and dealing with my phone at the same time. I hit Serra's name on my contacts list and listened to the ringing on the other end of the phone. "Aren't you still in class?" she answered without hesitating.

"Does _anyone_ know my schedule?" I answered sarcastically.

I could almost see Serra rolling her eyes as she walked down the hall in the hospital, pushing her way through the swinging doors and saying goodnight to coworkers. "Oh, so sorry to the man whose schedule changes every _eight weeks_."

I chuckled, listening to her bid another nurse goodnight. I could hear the babies in the NICU crying as she walked through the nursery and she must have paused to comfort one. "Oh, sweetie, you've been at it all day. Hold on, Sammy. I have to set you down for a second."

I waited as I could hear static from the other end of the phone as Serra set the phone in the baby's bassinet as the wailing got louder and then faded away as Serra picked the pathetic creature up to comfort it. "Why is she still crying?" I could hear Serra ask another nurse, "Jesus, she's burning up, Claudia. When's the last time you checked her?"

There was concern in my wife's voice as she discussed the newborn's health with Claudia. "You gotta cold bath her, Claudia. Get her in right now. Call Dr. Bacall and tell her Girl Greer is at least 102 and in distress."

Claudia answered and Serra picked up the phone again, breathing into the speaker as she shoved the phone between her shoulder and her face. "I don't know who these fuckers think they are. I've been off the clock for twenty minutes and no one is paying attention."

"Is she gonna be okay?" I asked, knowing that Serra had gotten attached to Girl Greer. She was almost seven weeks early (a lot like Libby) and was struggling to make the same gains that our niece had made easily.

Serra continued to pat Girl Greer as she waited for the cold bath to be prepared. "She should be fine, but she also shouldn't have had a fever. She's gotta have an infection. I'm gonna be another few minutes. I'm sorry, I thought I was out of here."

I shook my head, "It's okay. Take care of her. Dean called a minute ago and wanted to know if we wanted to come over for steaks. Grace needs comforting, apparently."

"I know," she answered, "I talked to her at lunch today, but she only cried once, so I took that as good news. Yeah, dinner with them is fine. Especially considering I work with idiots!" She said the last word a bit louder than she needed to and I knew she was attempting to make a point, still holding the NICU baby. "Tell Dean that I want my steak to still be moving."

"What, are you part werewolf now?"

"You never know, honey," she said over the scream of the infant, "where was I over the last full moon?"

I chuckled and nodded to myself, remembering our tryst in the barn over the last full moon. She was sick of spending the night at the BatCave because my bed was so small, and we couldn't move into the house for another week. Staying with Dean and Grace had gotten…old, so we camped out every couple of nights out in the barn, just to get a moment alone. The memories of the hayloft drifted through my mind and I smiled to myself, remembering how itchy we had both been the following morning, doing the walk of shame back up to the Big House.

Dean had been smug about it too, stating that we "could screw in the house like normal adults," but Serra only shook her head and flipped him off. I laughed, knowing that my brother would retaliate eventually, but also knowing that Serra would put him down.

"Okay, so I'll call Dean back and let him know that we're eating over there," I said, trying to stay focused over the crying baby.

"I'll text you when I can finally leave," Serra said, having to speak louder because of the infant. "Love you," she said.

"Love you, too," I answered automatically, hanging up the phone. I redialed Dean and he picked up on the first ring. "She says you overcook her steak."

"She can cook it herself, then," came Dean's automatic, snarky reply.

"You're so full of shit. You love cooking for everyone."

"You don't need to spread it around," he answered, taking a drink of something. "Pick up some spuds on the way home, will you? And a case of beer."

I tilted my head and made a face. "Anything else?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yeah, diapers, ice cream and a heavy sedative."

"For you?"

"Nah," Dean said, lowering his voice. "I'm gonna slip it in Grace's drink."

"Was it that bad for her?"

Dean hesitated and I wondered if my sister-in-law was in the room with him. He had to answer carefully, but even then, she would probably still hear his answer, especially since she heard his thoughts as well as her own these days. "Yeah, I think so," he finally said, choosing his words carefully. "Just come over."

"Potatoes and beer."

"Yeah."

I hung up the phone and shook my head slightly. I knew it would be hard for Grace to go back to school, but I hoped that she would handle it better than Dean anticipated that she would. Apparently, she did exactly what he knew she would: she was emotional, and an overly emotional Grace was a little terrifying.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Dean

Sitting on the counter in the kitchen, waiting for Grace to get home, I glanced behind me to check on Lib. She was drooling all over herself, passed out in her swing. Whoever invented that fucker should get an award. I took another swig of beer and prepared myself for what was in store when Grace walked through the door.

I looked around the kitchen and made a mental list of what I needed to still do around the house. We were gonna need pipes soon. When I finished the apartment and the panic room downstairs, I came across a few leaky pipes that headed upstairs. I figured that they led up here to the main floor and our bathroom upstairs, but I didn't even want to think about redoing any plumbing in the depth of winter. We hadn't had a thaw yet and twice now, we'd had pipe freeze warnings. Those suck, by the way. Yeah, let's run the water during the night of a snowstorm in a hundred year old house and hope that water doesn't end up everywhere.

The rumble of the Chevelle I overhauled a couple of years ago for Grace was headed up the recently plowed drive headed to our house. Either the snow made the 350 V8 engine sound more awesome than it actually was or I needed to give Baby a tune up to compete with Smoke on the Water.

Don't mock me. She's Smoke on the Water because she's painted Deep Purple. Get there faster.

I listened as the door slammed and Grace walked up the porch and let herself in. I smiled, tossing her a beer and she caught it without hesitating without looking up at me. My wife is a badass.

"Hey," she said, hanging her bag on the hook behind the door. "How was the shop?"

"I got a Model T right now that I have no fucking clue what to do with," I said, taking a drink and getting down off the counter to kiss her, "how about school?"

She glanced at Libby, still sleeping and smiled. "It wasn't bad. The kids missed me and they were all excited. We didn't get shit done."

"See?" I said, raising my eyebrows, and taking a step back to prove my point, "No big deal!"

Grace raised a know-it-all eyebrow at me and shook her head as she opened her beer. "Of course, you were right, dear," she said, her voice just dripping with cynicism. "I didn't miss our daughter at _all."_ She shook her head for good measure and walked towards Lib slowly, just to touch her face gently. She turned back towards me and glanced at the clock above my head. "How long has she been sleeping?"

I shrugged, "I dunno, she was asleep when I got home about an hour ago."

"Where's Jody?"

I tossed my bottle in the recycle box in the mud room and gestured to the basement steps. "She went down to take a nap. Apparently caring for a four-month-old by herself at 50 is hard."

Gracie walked back up to me, sipping her beer in a dainty way. I never woulda guessed that I would be so hung up on a girl. She's the reason I kept fighting, through the pain of The Mark, before we realized that she could absorb it. Seeing her knocked up with my kid…it does something to you, it changes you. Sammy always thought I was overprotective of him…well, he's got nothing on my girls. I'd burn in hell all over again if it meant keeping them safe. I'm paranoid about all of it being some ultra-realistic dream… some djin has me hold up in some basement somewhere, bleeding me dry, but hopped up on a perfect hallucination. Don't laugh, it's happened before. In the corner of my mind, I keep expecting Sammy to pull me down from the ropes I remember, slapping my face and begging me to wake up.

Honestly, if it is all a dream, I'd rather stay here anyway.

"Dinner plans?" Grace's voice breaks my thought process and brings me back to my fantasy-based reality.

I pointed behind me at the steaks on the counter. "I called Sammy and they're coming over for dinner. We're celebrating your return to the real world!"

"No," Gracie said, shaking her head, "you want Serra here to bitch at me to grow a pair and quit complaining about going back to work, so you don't have to do it."

I made a face, offended that she figured out the truth so quickly. "No…" I said, struggling to come up with something on the fly, "they move in next week and it's one of our last nights together before they end up fornicating for days on end and we never see them again."

"Nice save," she responded, rolling her eyes and flipping her hair towards me as she turned around towards the counter. _God, she smells good._ Still with her back towards me, she shook her head again, "What's your record interacting with me before you think of something sexual?"

Pursing my lips and shaking my head, I thought about it. "I dunno. Four minutes or so?"

Gracie turned and put her hand on her hip, "I don't think you've ever made it four minutes."

I chuckled and wrapped myself around her, nuzzling her neck, "Can you blame me?" I felt a shift in Grace's body language a good three seconds before Libby started to cry. _Damn psychic._

She winked at me as she walked away, towards Liberty. "Hi, sweet girl! I missed you today!" Libby sobbed as Grace bent to unclip the straps holding her in place. She scooped Lib into her arms and bounced her lightly. "I know, you're probably hungry."

"Hungry hippo," I said, turning to get a bottle ready as Grace jogged up the steps to change Lib's diaper. I added powered formula to her bottle, a little warm water, and shook it, laughing lightly to myself at the mundane activities that now filled my days.

"Hey, guys," Sammy's voice came through the kitchen as he let himself in through the front door.

"Hiya, Sammy," I answered reflexively. "Where's Serra? Thought she was on her way home?"

He set down his school bag with a thump and carried the bag of potatoes and case of beer over to the countertop, setting them down gently. Running a hand through his too-long hair, he took a breath before answering. "That baby? Girl Greer?"

I took a drink of my beer, preparing myself, thinking the kid had died. "Yeah?"

"Serra was on her way out and walked through the nursery and saw that she was still crying and I guess she's been at it all day," he began, opening a bottle of beer. "Serra picked her up and could feel that she had a fever, so she was gonna stay until the doctor took over."

"Glad Sere caught it," I said, thankful that it would be one less thing that we would have to comfort Grace about. I'm not saying that my wife is high-maintenance, but she's a fucking psychic. She has everyone's emotions all the time and the poor girl doesn't get a break. She's on edge all the time and honestly, I'm not entirely sure how she keeps it together all the time. My memories alone are enough to put anyone in the nut house, myself included, but Grace has seen it all and still sticks around.

Gracie came back down the steps with Lib much happier, cradled in her arms. "Hey, Meatloaf! Look what I've got!" I waggled the bottle at her and she babbled at me, flapping her hands and kicking her chubby ass little feet. Handing the bottle to Grace without even bothering to ask if she wanted me to feed her, I kissed her forehead and nuzzled her nose like always. She opened her fat little fist and put one of her hands on my face as I was face to face with her and I collapsed into a puddle where I stood.

"Oh, God, that was adorable," Gracie sighed as she took the bottle from my hand and waited until my moment was over with Lib.

It was gone when she slapped my face where she had been pawing at me and I laughed. "Nice one, baby girl." Gracie headed over to the couch and disappeared into her bubble with our daughter.

I turned back to Sam, the sting on my face still biting on my cheek. I held my beer to my face and Sam laughed at me. "What? Meatloaf's got a stiff right hook."

"Right," Sam said, taking a drink. "You want me to start the spuds?" I tossed him a potato and nodded as I ripped open the steak pack. "Mashed or baked?" he asked as he walked to the stove.

"Babe?" I looked up at Grace.

"Mashed," she answered without looking up. I watched her a moment longer, knowing there was something rattling around in that big brain of hers, but I knew better than to push with a crowd.

I glanced back at Sam and shrugged, "You heard The Boss."

Sam rolled his eyes and hung his head. He knew that he shouldn't have asked. Mashed was so much more work and he _hated_ peeling potatoes.

"I can hear you, Sammy," Grace's voice came floating through the kitchen.

"Right," he said under his breath. "Like I could forget."

"Serra's gonna kick your ass later," she said, not hesitating. I leaned on the counter, knowing that there was a discussion coming. "It's a good thing you walked away from Kathleen."

"Who's Kathleen?" I asked, fueling the fire. "Did you have a torrid affair?" I grinned at him as he swung at me with the potato peeler. "When's the wedding?"

Sam shook his head at our tease. Everyone in the room knew that he would rather die than leave Serra; honestly he would die if he _tried_ to leave Serra. Between Serra's rage and Grace's vengeful streak, there would be no getting out alive. The Winchester/Browning unification was a powerful one to contend with. "She's my World Religions professor," Sam said to me, knowing that Grace already knew what happened. "She came on to me today after class."

"Is she hot?" I said before I could stop myself.

The couch laughed, knowing I couldn't control anything.

Sam shook his head at me again, making a face. "I'm not even going to answer that."

I glanced to Grace, "Judge rules?"

She nodded, "Yeah, she's hot."

I mockingly gasped at Sam, making a deal out of covering my mouth and widening my eyes in shock. "If you were unwed, you would take her in a manly fashion?"

"Oh, shut up," Sam said, going back to his potatoes.

Smug, I took another drink. "Yeah, keep peeling there, pretty boy."

Libby finished her bottle and Grace took to walking around the house, bouncing and patting her back. I took another chance glance at Grace, still evaluating her body language and temperament. I knew she was upset about being gone all day, but there was something more that I just couldn't place. Grace stared past me from across the room, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. I watched her, ready to take Lib from her arms because for the first time in over a year, it looked like we were about to see the future through her eyes.

Sure enough, I set the bottle I held down on the counter and hurried towards Gracie and Lib. Scooping Lib from her arms, Grace went slack, her entire body motionless as she stared off into space, seeing something that none of us could experience. Libby watched her mother intently, waiting just as I was for Grace to come back.

Sam noticed that we were completely still and he turned around, striding across the living room, ready to catch Grace if she collapsed. "What's happening? A vision?"

I nodded, staring at my wife. "I think so," I said, "Grace?"

There was a flick from her eyes. She wasn't in a vision, she was listening. To what, I had no idea. Sam and I stood still as well, even slowing our breathing, thinking that we would be able to hear the same thing as the half-angel. Right.

Seconds passed. Then minutes. Finally, Grace took a gasping breath and looked around, coming to. "What?" I almost shouted at her. "What did you see?"

"I didn't see anything," she said, still breathing hard, "I was listening—I could hear people talking about us; me and Serra, and then I heard Crowley's name and I tried to get a bead on it, but I couldn't narrow down the voice," she spilled, not taking a breath, "and then I realized that I wasn't breathing—Cas is right, when you're listening to Angel Radio, you really forget to do human things."

"Who is mentioning your names in the same sentences as Crowley?" Sam said, looking down into my wife's wide eyes.

Grace shook her head, trying to remember. "I don't know. I couldn't really tell who's voice was who's and then they kinda just disappeared."

"Like they were in range and then they weren't? Who else is out here?" I walked to the window and pulled back the curtains, staring out like some paranoid old lady.

"They're gone, Dean," Gracie said quietly. "I don't know who they were."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Sam

Grace's abilities scare me sometimes. The idea that she can hear someone else's thoughts terrifies the hell out of me…nothing is sacred. She yelled at Serra once because she was too loud from behind a bedroom door in her own _mind_ about us having sex. I guess it's something that I am still uncomfortable with, considering I have no secrets from my sister-in-law, which means that I have no secrets from Dean. We've always kept things from each other and I think I'm only upset by the fact that it's not a two way street. I still don't know what he doesn't tell me, even though I'm sure Serra regurgitates quite a bit from Grace on a regular basis.

I have a few concerns about how tightly knit this group is.

Dean and I stood, ready for Grace to collapse as she has in the past after having one of her visions. She's gained more control over the years, but I think the angel half is sometimes a little too much for the human half to take. I know Serra worries constantly about her sister and how their relationship went through a couple of changes after realizing that an angel helped to conceive Grace. Serra has talked about having a genetics panel done on Grace in "secret," to see if they are biological sisters, though it wouldn't stay secret for long. I can see where Serra is coming from…if I suddenly found out that Dean was half-something-else, I would be curious at our genetics as well. She came to the conclusion months ago that it would be too emotionally damaging to Grace to even attempt the panel, let alone finding out the results. Having Liberty around has helped alleviate the tension that has gathered between the sisters, but I still think they have some things to talk about.

She came back to us moments later, not having a vision, but listening to something that we couldn't hear. I knew Dean was already pretty constantly on edge, considering he still had a newborn to care for, but these kinds of things put his blood pressure up at unhealthy levels. Instead of a relaxing night, Dean would spend the next few hours, predictably, walking around the house, making sure windows were locked, Devil's traps were still intact, salt was across window frames and that Libby's crib was still centered in the Devil's trap that was painted on the back side of her hot pink area rug. He would also head downstairs to the panic room to reassure himself that the downstairs pantry was fully stocked with diapers, wipes, and baby food to last at least a week.

It's just how my brother worked.

The front door opened moments later and Serra came in, stomping off her boots on the porch and leaving them to dry outside. She dumped her bag and her coats as she walked in, staring at the group of us, standing in the middle of the living room around Grace. "What? What happened?" she said, walking over to Grace and I.

Grace shook her head, "Nothing happened, I could hear someone. People. Talking about you and I, and Crowley."

"Crowley?"

She nodded as she stared up at Serra, extending her hand. I knew she would feed the memories into Serra's brain, replaying the sentences she heard back into her sister's head. They were silent for a moment as they listened to each other and then broke away, Serra's eyes taking on the angry look she got when someone threatened her family.

"Come on, guys. Don't leave us out of the loop," Dean was saying, still holding Liberty. He held out his hand for Grace to take and wiggled his fingers. "My turn."

Grace obliged, pushing her memories towards my brother. Dean was silent for a few seconds and then took on the same terrifying look that Serra had adopted. "Alright, alright," I was saying, holding out my hand. "I'm not gonna be the only one who doesn't know."

" _No one knows what's happening now that Crowley is dead," a voice was saying quietly. "Don't you think that we should know who the successor will be?"_

 _A different voice answered, "I think everyone is more concerned that a nephilim took out the King of Hell singlehandedly. That's her property. Don't you think we should just go after her now?"_

 _"_ _Wait for orders, otherwise you're gonna end up dead just like fucking Crowley. Long live the King indeed."_

I came out of the memory and suddenly understood why everyone was so pissed off. "Demons? Here?" I looked around as if they would appear out of nowhere. "How do they know where we live?"

"I'm basically a beacon," Grace was saying, shaking her head. "Cas has told me before to tone it down, I just don't know what muscle to flex."

"It's why I have salt lines and Devil's traps everywhere," Dean said, gesturing to the living room with his free hand. "Since New Orleans, she's been a lighthouse."

It made me uneasy that demons knew where we were at any given time. Dean hadn't seemed outwardly concerned, but at the same time, the disaster with Crowley just happened about three weeks ago. The death was still fresh and Grace was still adjusting to some of her new abilities. Maybe it was a newer development that the demons knew where we were.

"Have they always known? Or is this just since Crowley?" I asked, still on edge.

Dean shook his head and shrugged. "We'll never really know, but I think everyone needs some new ink." I nodded, agreeing, knowing that Serra was unprotected unless she was wearing her bracelet, which I saw out of the corner of my eye. Dean glanced at Grace out of the corner of his eye. "What can we do for Meatloaf?"

She shrugged back at him, "I don't know, maybe a necklace? Or we just draw it on her each day?"

Serra took Libby from Dean's arms and bounced her around, getting huge, open-mouthed grins as Serra danced around the living room. "We can get you tattooed too!" she was singing to Libby, giggling as she held on to Serra's scrubs. "A little ink for the Hungry Hippo?"

Grace giggled quietly as she headed for the kitchen, the situation lower on her priority list. "Watch it, she just ate," she muttered to her sister.

I stood near Dean as I watched the girls take our places in the kitchen. The way Serra and Grace communicated was almost constantly telepathic, touching each other occasionally to drive a point home. When they weren't touching, they were gesturing or mumbling quietly to each other. The only time I had ever heard the Browning sisters raise their voices to each other was at the height of their biggest fight I had ever witnessed. It was right when Serra and I had become a couple and after Grace had her initial vision about the stalker. I remembered a lot from the beginning, and this was no exception.

"If I had any more information about him, I would tell you," Grace was saying through gritted teeth as I walked into the kitchen as the girls prepared dinner. She gestured with the carrot she was washing as she spoke, louder than normal to her sister.

Serra stood with her arms crossed and with a sarcastic look on her face. "You don't have to be such a bitch about it," she responded without missing a beat, "I'm just trying to help you stay fucking safe." Grace turned back to the sink, muttering angrily under her breath. "Say it to my face, Grace. What?"

"I said 'if it was _you_ going through these fucking visions, you wouldn't know what to do either.' I'm not going to stop living my life because some asshole wants to rape me."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Serra said, slamming her hand on the counter, "I'm not telling you to stop living your life, I'm telling you to alter the outcome! Start changing shit like you tried with Mom and Dad!"

"Didn't you happen to notice that they're still fucking dead?" Grace cried, swinging her arm wide, staring at her sister. "Nothing I did changed the outcome! They're still gone and I still have to deal with some bastard with an obsession!"

Neither of the sisters had noticed me approach, so I changed my trajectory and sat on the steps to the second floor in the living room. Only then did I notice Dean, sitting on the edge of the couch in the shadows with a beer, listening to his girlfriend and my girlfriend tear each other apart. I mouthed to him, "Should we break it up?"

Dean took a drink and made a face. Very slowly, he shook his head. "Not on your life."

The girls continued in the kitchen, with Dean and I listening on in the living room. Serra's turn was next. "Fine, just take it, then. Take up the ass and let the bastard come."

"So constructive, thank you, little sister. I'm so happy you're here to dictate my life," Grace said, her voice dripping with distain. "However can I keep making life choices without you?"

Serra gasped mockingly at Grace. "I don't know how you've made it so far alone!" she yelled. "You know what? I hope he does find you, and that I am there!" There was silence as Grace obviously whipped around to stare at Serra, "Because after I'm done kicking his ass, I'm gonna start in on yours."

"You're so full of shit, Serendipity. You talk big, but when's the last time you did _anything_ for me?" Grace said, her turn to smack the counter with her hand. "I have taken care of you your _entire_ life, and all you have _ever done_ is try to correct what I'm doing. You _always_ think you're right, even when you _know_ you're not." There was a silence as Grace decided how to continue, "I know what the underlying problem is."

"Oh, please tell me, psychic," Serra spat.

Grace took a long time to answer, weighing her words to get them just right. "Here we are, finally with a Grace problem, not a Serra problem and you cannot _wait_ for me to fuck it up." I could tell that tears were forming in Grace's eyes; her voice was shaky and she was hesitant to continue. I glanced at Dean from my perch on the steps and he still shook his head, holding me back, out of the fight. "You're so happy that you're not the problem, you haven't stopped to think about how this affects all of us."

Quietly, Serra asked, "All of us?"

"The Winchesters, too."

Serra's voice was calmer and she took a deep breath. "How?"

"No matter what I change, we all end up in the woods," Grace said, trying to explain her vision as best she could to her little sister. "I know that he attacks me, and I know that he knocks you out. I know Dean and Sam are there, fighting back, but if I change anything, it could be one of the boys that gets hurt instead of me."

Silence flooded the kitchen as Serra absorbed what Grace was explaining.

"I can't risk changing the path…I can't risk letting the boys get hurt, too."

I came out of my own memory and glanced around the room. Everything as still quiet and very little had changed. The girls were peeling potatoes and Serra still carried Liberty on her hip. I took a deep, ragged breath, and began planning our defensive strategies. If the demons were searching for Grace or Serra, or looking for a replacement for Crowley, we would need to batten down the hatches and really prepare for the worst.

Dean and I sat on the couch, watching one of the last football games of the year before the Superbowl but I spent a lot of time watching Dean and Grace as well. Dean seemed to be able to read Grace in a way that I couldn't, but it was more than sharing a bed with someone, it was a deep, intricate understanding of how the other worked. There were pangs of jealousy about their relationship; I didn't feel that Serra and I had reached that level of depth with each other yet, but I also wondered if it was because we didn't have any kids. Having Liberty changed Dean in a way that I was not sure if I would ever understand. Serra referred to Johnny, our black lab puppy, as our fur baby, but I knew he wasn't nearly the same as caring for an infant, though it seemed just as expensive and frustrating. He had already gone through two wooden fences that Dean and I built around the entrance of the barn to simply barricade him in until the snow melted and our house closed escrow, and both times after he made his break, he waited patiently on Grace and Dean's back porch, waiting to be let in. He was in the barn now, being kept company by the two stray kittens that haunted around the property.

My attention went back to the girls in the kitchen and smiled lightly at Serra as she made eye contact with me and winked. Watching her hold Libby against her hip invited another twinge somewhere deep in my chest. She looked even more amazing with a baby on her side and momentarily, I wondered what the combination of our genetics would produce. Smiling at the thought, I chuckled to myself: honestly, our kid would look a lot like Dean and Grace's, simply inheriting Serra's darker eyes and auburn hair.

I glanced again at Serra and Libby and shook off the thought; I was still in school and Serra's benefits had not yet come out of probation. We didn't need any kids yet. We could borrow Dean's.

As Serra turned back to the boiling pot of potatoes, Grace elbowed her side and leaned her head towards Serra's. I closed my eyes and shook my head, realizing the conversations I had just gone through in my head. Grace was relaying the play-by-play as I sat there and watched, I was sure of it. Especially after Serra glanced behind her and grinning, winked again.

I looked sidelong at my brother. He seemed relaxed enough, drinking his third beer of the night and every once and awhile, he would glance behind him at the girls in the kitchen. He had done his walk through of the house and reassured himself that we were as locked down as we could be without actually being in the panic room. Finishing his beer, Dean got up and walked into the kitchen, hugging Grace from behind and whispering something in her ear. He turned at opened his arms for Libby and Serra complied, handing her over.

"Potatoes are almost ready," Serra said, handing Dean a spatula and tongs. "Stovetop grill is hot. Let's go, meat master."

Twirling the tongs in his hand, Dean grinned at Serra. "Meat Master," he said, lifting his eyebrows at Grace, "has a nice ring to it."

Grace laughed and turned towards the basement steps, waiting. I followed her eye line and waited, knowing that Jody was about to join us, even though there had been no tells or sounds coming from the basement. This is what it was like living with Grace; she just knew things before anyone else did, and we adjusted accordingly.

"Hey, Jody," Dean greeted without looking up. "Have a good snooze?"

She ran a hand through her short hair, zipping up the hoodie she wore. "Yes. I didn't realize how exhausted I was," she said, walking up to Dean's side and kissing Libby on the cheek. "I forgot, Missy, how much work creatures like you are!" A sad look fell across Jody's face barely long enough to notice, but I knew Grace was hearing the memories that Jody ran through in her head. Grace looked uncomfortable momentarily, but moved on as soon as Jody did.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Dean

There was still more to Grace's memory than she showed us, I can almost guarantee it. She's never this secretive, unless it happens to be about herself or her sister, or that either one of them is in danger. I didn't know what she was hiding, but I knew it would spill out of her when everyone had settled into bed. I held Lib on my hip and threw the steaks on, getting a nice sizzle from the already hot grill and handed her a wooden spoon to entertain herself with. She abused me with it for awhile and then was as surprised as me when Cas showed up in the middle of the living room.

"A little warning next time," I mumbled, mainly to my daughter. "Cas surprised us, right, Lib?" She raspberried in response, her chubby little fists clamped together over the spoon in her hand.

"Staying for dinner?" Serra asked, but then she rolled her eyes and shook her head, saying, "Never mind. You don't eat."

Standing the middle of the living room, he was making me uneasy. Cas usually had a purpose for just appearing and I wasn't entirely sure that I wanted to know why he stayed silent.

"Dude. Cas," I said, trying to get him to explain himself. "What's going on?"

"There have been demons nearby," he began, his eyebrows furrowed and staring at me, trying to see if I already knew. "They have been circling the property, learning your routines."

"Routines?" Sam asked, standing and moving towards his wife in the kitchen. "Why?"

"I'm not sure yet," Cas replied, looking around. "You have all of the customary protective sigils in place?"

I nodded, "Yeah, of course," I said, as Grace came to stand behind me. "Does this have anything to do with her ganking Crowley?"

"Of course it does," Cas said, his words short and irritated. "I believe they're searching for a new King of Hell."

I tensed. Flashes of memories came flooding back into my brain of my stint as a fucking demon. Grace knew about that tarnished piece of my history, but I was still absolutely horrified by it. With everything in me, I hoped that Lib wouldn't be a psychic, too, purely for that reason. I never wanted my kid to know what I had done.

During the time when my eyes were black, Crowley had asked again and again for me to be his right hand; the hammer, if you will, when it came to laying down his law. I never agreed to it, mind you, but you can be sure as hell that I considered it. Having that much power…it'll make you drunk, and then addicted.

Then obsessed.

Back then, I battled with myself on a pretty constant basis about having The First Blade, The Mark and the black eyes of a demon all at the same time. Nothing could stop me, not even Crowley. And I was likable, too. The other, lesser demons did whatever they could to get on my good side, always granting favors and bringing me different offerings. I never knew if was because they were afraid of me or because they wanted to impress me, separate from Crowley, but either way, I got what I wanted, when I wanted, and I had an entire army of demons waiting on me hand over fist. Except for the black soul and hell part, it was a pretty good gig.

When Sam and Cas took me back and forced clean, holy blood back into my system, part of me always wondered if Crowley had been thankful, knowing that I wouldn't gain enough power to take over. I fought it, tooth and nail, saying fucked up things to Sam, trying to get him to cave, but he never gave up on me. I'm sure he wanted to, but he never walked away.

I shook myself out of my revere and rejoined the conversation, flipping the steaks that were on the grill in front of me. I could feel Grace's stare into my back and I knew that she had listened to me walk through the memories that plagued my mind. I glanced behind me to throw her a "it's okay" look, but instead, she looked more curious than anything.

Rather than risk my brother or Serra hearing the conversation I was about to have with Gracie, I decided to go telepathic instead. _What's the matter?_

She touched my back, lifting up my shirt to get skin so she wouldn't have to open her mouth, obviously understanding that this conversation was not something anyone else needed to hear. _You think they're coming for you? To what, be the new King of Hell?_

 _It wouldn't surprise me, Grace. That's all behind me now, especially with The Mark gone._

She didn't look convinced. Her blue eyes narrowed as she continued. _You liked the power. I know you would never leave us, but knowing how deep you were…It scares me, Dean._

"I know it does," I said aloud, turning my shoulders to face her completely. Cas was watching us like a hawk. I could feel his cold stare as we exchanged thoughts. I also knew he could hear us even though we were trying to be discreet about it, but Cas likes to have his hands in everything. I continued silently. _I would rather die a burning death than leave you to become the new King of Hell. You have to know that, Gracie._

It was never a good sign when she stayed silent. Her abilities kept her brain busier than most people, but when it came to sharing her thoughts, she was usually an open book.

I cupped her face with my hand, knowing that the contact would be reassuring. She closed her eyes, unwilling to give in that quickly. _Grace. I'm not that guy anymore._ I leaned my forehead on hers and closed my eyes, too, taking a deep breath of her sweet scent. "There ain't no me if there ain't no you," I whispered. Libby hit me with the wooden spoon and Grace giggled quietly. "Way to ruin the moment, Meatloaf," I said, pretending to be mad at Liberty.

I turned back to Grace, but her thoughts we gone, replaced by the faux smile she wore when she still had more to say. I would have to wait until later to convince her.

Serra was taking the tongs from the side of the grill and lecturing me about not paying attention. "See, Old Man? You burn them. You burn the steaks."

"They're not burned! And who are you calling _old?"_

Serra pushed me out of the way and raised her eyebrows, gesturing with the tongs as she did so. "You," she said simply. She pulled the steaks off the grill and put them on a plate to rest. Grace was adding butter to the mashed potatoes as Cas continued to stare at me.

I shook my head gently at him, trying to make him understand that I wouldn't be the problem here; the other demons that threatened my family would be. The Mark was all but gone, and with Grace by my side, I didn't see it ever becoming an issue again.

We ate dinner quietly that night, the murmur of conversation was the quietest it had been since moving into the Big House and I knew that we were immersed in our own thoughts about the demons that had been circling.

Sam and Serra seemed happy, though, and that was important to me. They had their heads together and were talking quietly, probably about their honeymoon; they were leaving tomorrow for their trip down to Corpus Christi and I was happy to see them go. Sam pissed me off on a regular basis, but that was just Sam. We fucked with each other all the time, the way that brothers do, but Serra was more difficult for me to get along with on a more fluid basis. She was unpredictable and bossy, which, as I think that, also describes me. Grace told me a few times that we argued the way we do because we were so much alike, both stubborn and obsessive about small things.

Grace's little sister got under my skin in a way that only little sisters could. We bickered constantly; mostly it was me poking her with verbal bait, but almost always, she would retaliate bigger and badder, and sooner or later, we would spiral out of control and Grace and Sam would have to split us up. It was never anything personal, but I think that we each felt like we had a claim on Grace and neither of us was going to relent when it came to our possession.

"I don't _belong_ to either of you," came Grace's voice, quiet against the conversation.

I was surprised…it hadn't even occurred to me that she was listening. I could feel my face flush, but I didn't even bother trying to backtrack, so I took another drink of my beer instead.

"Of course, I'm listening. I'm always listening," she said quietly. "At this point, I can't shut any of you out. Everyone is just so _loud_." She put her fork down; leaving her untouched dinner at the table as she scooped Lib out of her playpen and walked upstairs without another word.

We all exchanged glances around the table, then Serra looked straight at me, her eyebrows creased, saying, "What were you thinking about?"

I shrugged, getting defensive. "Nothing!" Serra made a face, tightening her lips into a thin line. I stared back at her, unwilling to admit that any of this was my fault. "Fine, I was thinking about you and I and how we're constantly fighting for her attention."

"What?" Serra said, her eyebrows disappearing into her hairline. "We do not _fight_ for her attention."

"You do, Sere," came Sammy's voice, finally. Maybe my own brother would defend me.

I nodded and gestured at him, "See? Sam wouldn't lie to you!"

Serra was shaking her head, already arguing. "No. I don't have to fight for her attention. She's _my_ sister. I was here first."

I closed my eyes and pushed myself away from the table. "We'll, I'm the one banging her, so…"

"Guys, come on," Sam said, interrupting the argument. "You're both important to her, just in different ways. She's right though. She doesn't belong to either one of you. You can think that you've got some magical claim on her, but you're just gonna end up pissing her off. She already feels pulled in every direction and with her not being able to tune us out, there's gonna be a lot of this."

"A lot of what?" Serra asked, accusingly turning towards her new husband.

"A lot of fighting. Grace is honest, sometimes too much so. If you guys keep having these 'she's _my_ sister' or 'she's _my_ wife' arguments, all Grace is going to do is hear your internal monologues battle it out for her attention." Sam took a deep breath and sighed, his stupid bangs blowing around. "She fragile right now, guys. You have got to chill out."

I stood up from the table and dumped my plate in the sink, glancing at Cas, who still stood, silent in our kitchen. "Look," I said, stepping around Cas, "I'm not going pushing you out." I took a deep breath and tried to search for the words I wanted to try and explain myself to Serra. "She's your sister, but she's my wife. The family has shifted a bit and you have to be willing to bend."

"Bend how?"

I clenched my jaw, still trying to be democratic. "There are going to be times that it just needs to be us, Serra. She'll tell you when she's ready. She always does." Serra made a face and rolled her eyes. "I'm with her all the time now, and we've got Lib…everyone's relationships are changing. I haven't thrown a shit fit about you marrying Sam."

"Grace said you threw a little one," Serra spat, crossing her arms in front of her defiantly. "I miss my little brother," she said, mockingly, "Sammy's never around anymore. We never spend any time together!"

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "Jesus," I said, "nothing is sacred." Sam stared at the spoon on his plate and refused to join the conversation. I turned back to Cas, still listening to unknown voices and I knew he wouldn't be any help. "Fine. Alright. Here," I said, putting my hands on the table and leaning forward towards Serra. "When you and Sam got married, yeah, I had a hard time, but it was because my little brother was getting married. It made me feel old." I took a breath to continue, knowing that I was approaching a no-fly zone. "When Grace got knocked up, I flipped. Internally. Grace didn't know because I'm a really good liar, but here's the thing: if I could, I would keep her home and having my babies because her with Lib? That's the happiest I have ever seen her." I took another breath, ready for the reaction. "Happier than with you, because of something I did."

"Accidentally!" Serra stood, facing me. "Lib was an accident! She was on the pill!"

"She's still mine," I said, a finality in my tone. "I put her there… she's genetically half me, whether you want her to be or not. I will take care of the both of them, because they're mine."

Serra stared at me, and I could see under that rage that boiled just beneath the surface, she approved of the fact that I was fighting back. "I wanted so badly for you to be a complete asshole." Serra said, shaking her head. "I really wanted to hate you."

"What? Why?"

Shaking her head, she said, "Because she was the only blood I had. Then you came along and took her from me. Got her all pregnant and happy. She didn't need me anymore."

I calmed completely, finally understanding what the underlying problem was. Softly, I spoke, one last time. "I'm not goin' anywhere, Serra. And now you're really stuck with me now that you're married to my brother…but hell. He'd probably ditch me in a heartbeat to be with you."

Sam made a face and nodded, thankful that the fight was over.

"Then go up there and tell her we're done fighting over her," Serra said quietly. "I'm not gonna promise that I won't be a bitch anymore to you, but if I am, it's only because you're being a jerk."

I smiled lightly at my sister-in-law. As I walked around the edge of the table, she opened her arms and we hugged and it was the first time I felt like I got genuine approval from Serra. Kissing her on the top of the head, I patted her back and said, "Deal." I let go and turned to head upstairs to talk to Grace, but I glanced back as I took the first step, "bitch."

"Jerk," Serra grinned, folding her arms in front of her and leaning back into Sam's chest.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Sam

I hated when Serra and Dean fought, but I knew it was because they were both so stubborn. They moved on nicely, we finished our meal and while Dean and Grace were upstairs with Libby, Serra and I finalized our plans for Corpus Christi.

"What time do you want to leave tomorrow?" Serra asked over a mouthful of steak.

I shrugged. The sooner the better, in my mind, but I knew Serra would want to sleep in. Her vacation started tomorrow and she was eager to use the morning for sleeping, not packing the car and driving. "When you wake up," I answered democratically.

She leaned into me and kissed me, smiling. "Good answer," she said. She finished up her plate, stood to clear both hers and mine and dumped them in the sink. Glancing at the clock, she said, "I'm gonna go feed Johnny." She wiped her hands off and gestured to the sink, "Will you start these and I'll come back to help you?"

I stood, taking the final drink of my beer and nodded. "Yeah, sure."

She filled Johnny's bowl with food and walked out into the snow filled yard. I began filling the sink with hot water and got lost in thought.

…

"You're together, now, huh?" Dean's voice came out of the silence as I studied for a midterm at the kitchen table. "Since when?"

I glanced up, staring at him, confused. "How did you find out?" I asked, completely at a loss.

"Grace," was his simple reply. He grinned. "You got no secrets anymore, Sammy. It's about damn time too." He pushed himself onto the countertop and I smiled ironically. Serra and I had been there, right at that exact spot not four hours ago.

"I wasn't keeping it a secret, Dean," I said, rubbing the studying out of my eyes. "We just kinda…fell into each other."

"Yeah," Dean said, taking a drink, "I'll bet."

I stared at my brother and for the first time, realized how happy he really was. I hadn't seen him this happy since we were kids…the smile on his face was genuine, the bags under his eyes were gone and for the first time in my life, he looked like he had nothing to hide. A thought occurred to me for the first time: Dean had never been in love before. I mean, he had Lisa and Ben, but I'm still convinced that he was never in love with Lisa…she had just been a band-aid for something that he had no idea how to deal with. After he thought I was dead, he was broken and had nowhere else to go. Lisa had been there to put him back together again, and it was unfortunate, because I really think she had been in love with him.

Now, though, with Grace, my brother was a different person. He had something to live for and it was authentically a first for Dean. All our lives, we had been about survival; making sure that I survived had been Dean's only purpose in life. Now, he had so much more. This woman connected with him in a way I could never understand and it had been amazing to see his transformation. It was like Dean was a completely new man.

"How are you and Grace?" I asked him, still watching him from the table.

A wide smile crept across his face. He looked younger, more alive than I had ever seen him. I wondered momentarily if my physical appearance had changed since being with Serra. "We're awesome," he said. "I take back everything I ever said about relationships."

That statement alone was enough to know that Dean had changed. For years, he was convinced that relationships were just another way for you to feel pain. It's the reason he never understood me and Jessica, or me and Amelia…he just couldn't comprehend sharing a part of someone else's life.

"So you're serious?" I asked, "You think this is going somewhere?"

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, almost embarrassed. "Man," he started quietly, "I'm hooked."

I stared at my brother, open mouthed with shock. "You want to marry her." It wasn't a question.

He didn't look me in the eye for a few seconds, then, pulling something out of his pocket, he glanced down at his hand and opened it to show me. "I've been carrying this around for three days now."

I leaned over to look at what he held in his palm. It was a tiny band with tiny diamonds in a row on the top. It looked antique, but I had no idea about stuff like that. "What is that, Dean?" He stayed silent, still holding his hand out, breathing slowly: calm. "Is that an engagement ring?"

"I think technically it's a wedding band, but I can't afford anything else. She'll like it, right?"

I stared at Dean, completely blown away. "You're proposing." Again, it wasn't a question.

He nodded, looking back down at the ring in his hand. "It's gonna be a bitch keeping this from her. Damn psychic."

I couldn't come up with anything to say. My brother was in love with a girl and he bought a ring to propose. I suddenly stood from the table, walked over to Dean and pulled him into a hug. "I'm so happy for you, man."

Dean slid forward from the counter and hugged me back, slapping my back for effect. "I know. Me too, man."

…

The water from the sink was close to overflowing and coming out of my thoughts, I shut off the water, smiling at my memories. That had been almost three years ago, before the stalker attacked the girls, before we found out about Grace being a nephilim, before Libby and before we got married…so much had happened in such a short amount of time. I knew why, though. We were making up for lost time. Most people don't hunt things for a living and instead spend their lives in high school and college making friends and forming relationships. Dean and I had skipped all that and we were thrown into the lives we led now almost by accident. Of course, Grace would argue that it wasn't accidental, that it was all Fate, and really, who am I to argue with a half-angel?

The storm door slammed behind Serra and she dusted the snow off her shoulders and out of her hair. "I cannot WAIT for this snow to melt. Seems like we haven't had a snowfall year in so long." I turned to look at her stomping off her boots. "I hope Johnny will be warm enough."

"Should we just bring him in from the barn?"

Serra nodded, "After he eats, we'll put him in the garage. It's just so cold."

Setting the plates and silverware into the sink, Serra pushed me out of the way with her hip. I smiled down at her…she was too tiny to budge me with such little effort. I grinned at her.

"Lug," she said, pushing me with her arms this time. "You're a terrible washer. You dry. I'll wash."

I laughed as I abided and scooted over. We talked quietly about our plans in Corpus Christi and how little we planned on doing. There was a beach house, right on the water that we had rented out for the week. It would be nothing but sand and sun for the next six days. I turned and watched my wife scrub a plate with the sponge. Her shirt was low cut enough that my attention wandered and suddenly I was grateful that she wasn't a psychic too.

 _Sun, sand and something else_ , I thought, smiling, as I went back to drying.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Dean

Grace and Lib were lying on the bed when I walked into our room. Grace played with Lib's toes as she squealed with delight at her mother's touch. I knew that she heard me come up the stairs, but she didn't look up in greeting. Her mind was still elsewhere.

"Hey, gorgeous," I said quietly.

"Hi stranger," she responded.

I walked to Lib and smiled at her and chuckled to myself. "I was talking to Libby," I said, teasing Gracie. I bent to nuzzle Lib's face and spoke only to her. "Isn't that right? I was talking to my beautiful Meatloaf."

Grace smiled lightly and shook her head, not responding how I would have expected her to. My anxiety was returning as I watched her from out of the corner of my eye. She rubbed her face with both of her hands and laid all the way back onto the bed, stretching out. Reaching out with one hand, she pulled a pillow on top of her face and continued to lay there, silent.

"You're the only psychic that lives here, baby," I pressed softly. "I know there's something going on in that big old brain of yours, but you need to use words."

From under the pillow, she shook her head.

"Still not words, wife."

Grabbing the pillow and dragging it off of her face, she sighed. "It's because I don't _have_ words for what I'm hearing and what I'm seeing."

I sat down, picking Libby up off the bed and holding her against my chest. She was close to sleep and if I held her, she would cave in a matter of minutes. Turning towards Grace, I kept my trap shut and just waited.

"They're everywhere, panicked, fighting over the throne. They can hear me, like a beacon, but they can't get to me. They just keep repeating, 'the nephilim killed him.' 'Wait for revenge.'" Grace spoke in a voice I hadn't heard before, low and mystical. She sounded just like how you would picture one of those mind-reading gypsies to sound. "They're coming, but I don't know when. And I don't know how to close myself off anymore. Since…since Crowley, I can't close off the way I used to. It's like a part of me is still broken."

"Have you talked to Cas about it?" I asked, starting to feel more than anxiety.

She shook her head, still refusing my stare.

"Why?"

"Because he's already fixed me twice. And the last time he tried, he was down for the count for three days, Dean," she said, finally looking at me.

I reached out to hold the hand that lay next to me and I squeezed. She squeezed back, but the look on her face was full of pain and it cut me down to the bone. "Grace, what? What's the matter?"

"I don't understand how you can still be so dedicated to me, Dean. I'm not even close to the same person you married and all I've done the entire time is cause problems. I'm a mess—"

I've had enough. "Stop, Grace."

"What?"

I sat on the bed and stared at my wife. I've never been good at sharing my feelings and thoughts and it's one of the luckiest parts of my life, being married to a real-life psychic. She knows when I'm telling the truth, when I'm hiding something and she always knows my real feelings about anything we talk about. There's no bullshit. I had no words for what I wanted to say to Grace, but I knew that she could hear me and I did my best to isolate the thoughts that meant the most.

Seeing her in her wedding dress.

Holding Lib for the first time.

Meeting her in the bar that first night that I never wanted to end.

In the hospital, watching her open her eyes after thinking I had lost her after she had been shot.

Gauging her reaction after giving her the Chevelle.

Holding her tight after finding out she was pregnant.

As I thought of these scenes, I watched Gracie's eyes fill with tears. "There's nothing I would change, Grace. You are everything and I feel like I keep telling you that. You're not gonna shake me loose, honey. This is just a bump."

"There have been a lot of bumps," she said quietly, still hiding her face.

I shrugged, Lib's face hot against my shoulder. "I like it bumpy." She smiled and I knew that I had gotten somewhere. "It'll just be us for a few days while Sammy and Serra are gone. I think it'll be nice to have our own routines for a change."

Sitting up, Grace nodded. "Yeah, I know," she was saying, "but the demons worry me."

"They can't see us," I said, unconcerned with something as trivial as a demon. Fuck, I had been one. They didn't scare me. "And they can't possess you without permission, it seems. A little perk of being half and half, I think." She nodded again. "So like I said, I'm not worried. Meatloaf has her mark," I held up Lib's right foot and on the bottom was the hand-drawn pentagram that Sam and I maintained. "We're hidden."

"Did you talk to Sam about Serra's tattoo?"

I nodded, remembering. "I forgot, but I'll remind him. I'm sure it's already on his mind. They'll probably go when they're on the way to Corpus Christi."

Serra had a lot of tattoos and I always thought it was weird that she didn't have a protective mark yet. I knew Sam wouldn't want her in danger, so I knew that would get taken care of soon. Grace sighed and nodded. "I've been a real pain in the ass lately, haven't I?"

"Yeah, you have," I said, kissing her. "But I know what I signed up for." I winked at her and stood, holding out my hand to help her up. "Come on, you missed my fight with Serra."

"You fought with Serra again?" she said, overly exasperated.

I nodded, proud. "Yeah, we really hashed it out. Look." I concentrated on me and Serra, downstairs. Grace closed her eyes and watched the memories flow through my brain and I saw her eyebrows narrow and then raise as she saw what happened. "It's all good."

Opening her eyes, Grace smiled. "She's not possessive. She's protective." She poked my arm, "Just like you."

I grabbed her finger and pulled her in for a kiss. We made a Libby Sandwich and hugged, and I could feel that Grace was on the mend. I was no psychic, but I knew enough about her to know when I was helping.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Sam

The next morning came quickly for me. I was so excited to finally get gone, and not having to share a roof with my brother, or anyone else except my wife, for a week would be amazing. I got up, showered and dressed quickly, itching for Serra to join me. She was still snoring when I got out of the bathroom so I padded quietly to the kitchen to make coffee. Jody was already in the kitchen, putting away dishes from the drying rack from the night before.

"Morning, Sammy. Excited for your trip?" she greeted me with a smile.

"Definitely," I said, pulling the coffee can down from the shelf. "It'll be nice to get away and actually get our honeymoon this time."

"I can't imagine what that must have been like," Jody said, pausing to wipe her hands on a kitchen towel. "Having Serra possessed and then seeing Grace shoot her?" I nodded; the memories still very fresh in my mind. "And then Grace taking him in…I just can't fathom it."

"I know," I said, adding water to the coffee pot. "Serra saved the bullets from their legs. She's having them made into necklaces."

"That's funny," Jody said, chuckling. "Remember that time we had to shoot each other?"

"She thought so too." I could hear Grace and Dean stir from upstairs and glanced at the clock on the wall. Grace came jogging down the steps, ready for school and poured herself a cup of coffee. "Hey, guys,"

she greeted, "I can't believe, my second day back, I'm gonna end up late."

"You still have time," Jody soothed. "Take it easy on the road. Snowed again last night."

Grace nodded, "Oh, great. More snow." Dean came down the stairs carrying Liberty and Grace hurried to both of them, kissing each of them. "I've got a meeting today, be home around four."

"My shift doesn't start until ten. You'll beat me home," Dean replied, smiling.

Grace turned to me and smiled, "Have fun on your trip," she said, hugging me. "Be careful. I'll try not to call Lucky while you're gone."

"It's okay," I said, smiling. "I know you guys would explode if you didn't talk daily."

With that, she turned and headed out the door, shouting, "Love you!" back over her shoulder towards Libby and Dean.

The hustle and bustle must have woken Serra. She came down the steps, almost a liquid; her hair was still a shambles and she wore a hoodie over her black sweats. "Hi, honey," I said, mockingly. "Are you even awake yet?"

"Coffee," she said, rubbing her face.

"It's not ready yet, Sere." I said, apologetic. She glared at me and continued walking down the steps, finally sitting down at a chair at the dining room table.

Dean sat down next to her and waggled Libby's hands in front of her face. Liberty continued to blow raspberries and giggle, doing her best to get her aunt's attention. Serra brought the hood of her sweatshirt down and smiled lightly at her niece. "What up, Muffin Top?"

Libby reached for Serra, pinching her hands together in a desperate way. Caving with a smile on her face, Serra finally held out her hands and Dean handed her off, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his neck. He stood, readying Lib's breakfast and more and more I knew that being separated for awhile from the group would do me and Serra (and Dean and Grace) some good.

The coffee pot beeped with finality and I got up to make Serra and myself a cup. The morning passed uneventfully and finally, two hours later, we were on the road headed towards Corpus Christi on our honeymoon.

"You know, Dean and I talked about going to a beach," I said, once we hit the highway. "'Sand between our toes, Sammy,' he said," I shook my head. "It's too bad we never took that trip."

"That was when you were trying to find a cure for The Mark, right?" Serra asked, sipping a second cup of coffee.

I nodded. Those times were some of the worst in our lives. Knowing that I could lose Dean to The Mark's power…it was a terrible, looming feeling. Dean had been convinced then that it would end bloody; that he would lose control and end up killing me. Trust me when I say that I never argued that he wouldn't. I just didn't know what it would make him do. Glancing over at Serra, I smiled. "But we get to have a honeymoon in the sand," I said. I reached for her free hand. "I'm really excited about being able to relax."

She grinned at me, the caffeine taking hold in her system. "Me too. I haven't had a break…ever. It was family, hunting, school, hunting…then the whole thing with Grace, and then the whole thing with Grace again. We just haven't caught a break." She paused, thinking. "It seems that a lot of my problems start with Grace."

I laughed, knowing that the statement was true. "To be fair," I said, "the last time started with you."

"That is true. I got possessed." Serendipity took another drink. "We need to find a tattoo shop."

"First on the list," I said, smiling. "We'll take care of that, lather it up with sunscreen and cover it."

"It doesn't make much sense to be getting tattooed and then going on a beachy honeymoon."

Tilting my head, I smiled. "It's okay. I don't plan on spending too much time on the beach." I waggled my eyebrows at her. "A little, but I've got other plans."

We smiled at each other knowingly and drove on down the highway.

…..

Pulling into our hotel in Dallas, Serra got out of the El Camino and stretched, her flannel lifting to reveal her stomach beneath. I eyed her for a minute and she grinned at me, turning on a heel of her boot and walking up the sidewalk towards the hotel. We checked in, unloaded the car and made our way up to our room.

It was beautiful, especially compared to the slums that we usually stayed in when we hunted, I glanced around and dropped my bag in the middle of the floor. The door shut quietly on its own and Serra turned, evaluating me. "At least it's warm here," she said, pulling off her boots. "The snow makes you wear too many clothes." I looked down at myself, nodding slightly. She smiled at me again, approaching me barefoot. "Honestly, you're always in too many clothes." Reaching up on her tiptoes, she wrapped her arms around me and pulled herself close. The kiss started tenderly, but quickly, we lost control, our hands and arms coiled around each other's bodies, tugging at hair and clothes as we tripped over boots and ended up on the floor.

Serra laughed as she landed on top of me, her elbow burying into my ribs. I laughed; she was too small to do any damage, so we didn't waste any time finding our stride again. I sat up, forcing her to sit as well, straddling my hips and wrapping her legs around my waist.

She ripped her shirt off, tugging it over her head with her hair spilling out, all over her shoulders. It had gotten long since we met, the ends danced well below her bra line. I pushed it back, behind her shoulders and attacked again, kissing her roughly and feeling the softness of her skin below my fingertips.

Finally, I felt like we were married…the connection that we shared was full of fire and passion. I wanted her more than I had wanted anyone else and it felt gratifying to have someone need me in the same ways. It wasn't just physical, either; I had that before. I didn't need completely physical. I loved it, don't get me wrong, but at the end of the day, Serra and I had a bond that no one else in my life shared.

I couldn't get my belt off fast enough for her; she wrestled it off of me and tossed it across the room. Pushing me down, she tore my pants off and we didn't just make love, we screwed. Well, Serra would use the word 'fucked.' We fucked, and it was a great start to our honeymoon.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Dean

Leaving Lib is hard. I handed her off to Jody this morning and that familiar ache in my chest came back as soon as I closed the front door, listening to her cry pathetically from the porch. I feel for Grace, because I know that if I think it's hard, then it must kill her. Driving to work, I run through my day in my head; I've still got that fucking Model-T that I know nothing about. Muscle I can do. Vintage? No. I'll just have to pawn it off on someone else, because after the body work, I've got nothing.

I've never earned a paycheck from doing legit work that I enjoy before. When I was with Lisa, I worked construction and man, it was dull. Hammer, nail, sand, repeat. There was no joy in it because I was so broken, and really, construction ain't for me anyway. Cars. Muscle cars are right up my alley. I can blast Metallica or ACDC over the speakers in the shop and get paid to rock out and drop in a big block 454 and completely blow it out with a new exhaust on someone else's dime and…well. You get the picture. I really like my job and at the end of the day, I get to leave it at the shop…there's no chance of something following my ass home or attacking me or my family. I live to see another day with my kid and my wife.

When I got Grace pregnant, I'll be the first to admit, it scared the shit out of me. I was raised by a terrible father and there was no way in hell I could do that to another human being. I was convinced that I would be an awful dad, quick to anger and easily frustrated, just like my old man was. I've kinda surprised myself; there's nothing I wouldn't do for that little girl and the idea of having more? Well, it crosses my mind on a regular basis. Lib is an easy baby. She eats, shits, sleeps all night, and only cries when something really bugs her. We never went through that "Holy hell, what did we get ourselves into?" phase that you hear about so often. Most of it, I know, is Grace. She brings a calm to the house that no one else could, and it might be because she's fifty-fifty, but it could very well just be Grace's personality. If she's calm enough to take on Serra, then she's calm enough to take on a newborn and a freaked-the-fuck out new father.

I pulled into the parking lot of my shop and was greeted by the typical panic of the morning. "Those Camaro parts didn't come in because of the snow," Eric was already saying as I walked into the shop. "They're still in Des Moines."

"So call Valerie and tell her Cherry Bomb is gonna be another couple of days," I said, closing my coat against the chill of the air.

Eric shook his head and said, "Nu-huh, bossman. She hates me. Thinks you're hot, though, so she'll accept it better if you call her."

"Fine," I said, chuckling to myself. I held my hand out for the house phone and dialed the number that Eric pointed at. I glanced up at him and shook my head. Eric was the son of the shop owner's and I had been picked over Eric to be house manager just on my skill level. He never wanted to be that involved with the shop, but since I came in and dipped my fingers in everything, he got a little possessive and pissy. Since my promotion, the kid won't leave me alone…shadowing repair work and hovering when I make phone calls to clients. "Hey, Valerie," I greeted as she answered the phone, "it's Dean from Precision."

"Oh, hello, Dean! Good news for my car, I hope?"

I made a face. "Not really," I said, taking a breath as I popped my neck, "the parts are being shipped from Des Moines and they haven't made it out here yet because of the snow."

She sighed and I tuned out her flirtatious complaining. It was obvious that she thought that I could somehow magically produce the parts we ordered to finish her 1969 Camaro. I let her finish and very calmly, I smiled and repeated myself, "Valerie, there's not much we can do. If you want the dual exhaust, you're gonna have to wait until the parts come. We don't carry everything here, so we had to order them from Des Moines." I smiled and held up a finger as another client walked into the shop. "They'll be here probably by the end of the week, depending on the weather."

Eric actually took the initiative to greet the new customer as I finished up with Valerie and the Camaro that she didn't deserve anyway. "Fine," she was saying. "I want the chrome exhaust, so I guess I'll just have to wait."

"She's gonna be untouchable," I assured her, "the motor is in and the transmission is completely rebuilt. Her last coat of clear coat went on last night. Except for the exhaust, she's finished."

"Well, thank you, Dean. I trust you," she answered, purring. "I know you did a phenomenal job."

"Thank you," I said, rolling my eyes and just trying to wrap the call. "I'll have someone call you when she's ready to get picked up."

"I'd love to hear it from you," Valerie continued.

I nodded and closed my eyes, trying not to laugh. "I'll see what I can do."

She hung up the phone and I glanced to make sure that Eric could handle himself at the counter. When I was satisfied that he wasn't scaring anyone away, I shrugged off my jacket, hung it in my locker in the back of the shop, rolled up my sleeves and greeted the cars in my bay. "Hello, ladies. Who's next?"

…..

"Dean, phone call, line three," came Eric's voice over the intercom as I lay on the creeper under the Nova on the rack. I rolled myself forward, out into the bay and sat up, walking over to the phone that was in my station. I wiped my hands on my pants, since all of my shop towels were missing, and picked up the phone. "This is Dean?"

"Hey, honey," came Grace's voice from the other end.

Immediately, I checked the phone in my pocket for missed calls from her. _Two. Shit_.

"What's wrong?" I asked; my voice more worried than I wanted it to sound.

Grace laughed, "Nothing, calm down. You just didn't answer your phone and I needed to know what time you're coming home. My meeting is going to take longer than it should because it's about next year's budget and Jody wants to have dinner with a couple of her friends."

"Probably not until six or six-thirty," I said, calming down. Grace was on her lunch break and needed an answer. Perfectly reasonable to call me at the shop.

She crunched on something as she answered, "Okay, that's fine. I'll still beat you," she said through her food. "That's all I wanted. You having a good day?"

"Yeah," I said, smiling, touched that she still took the time to ask about me. "Valerie hit on me again."

"You haven't seen yourself lately, have you?" Gracie responded immediately. "It's because you're so beautiful. Women just don't know what to do around you. I didn't."

I laughed, "I think Lib is proof that you did."

Hearing Grace smile over the phone was one of my favorite things about her. Without fail, when she smiled over the phone, her breath would come out like a silent giggle and it never failed to make me grin right back. "I'll see you tonight, lover."

"Yeah you will," I said. "Love you."

"Love you back," Grace replied automatically.

She hung up the phone and I turned to stare at the bitchy Nova. "Alright, Tramp," I said, thinking aloud, "just you and me now. Give it up." I walked over to the Nova and ran my fingers along its sandblasted exterior. The car refused to start and stay idling, and I was running out of things to replace. I popped my neck again and lay back down on the creeper. Rolling back under the Nova, I disappeared into my own world and tapped my foot subconsciously to "Sweet Child of Mine" playing over the shop's speakers.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Sam

Serra rolled off of me and wiped her face, a sheen of sweat made her even sexier than before. We were both out of breath and exhausted from round two. "I want some food," she said, reaching for the menu on the nightstand. "There's food they'll bring to me, right?"

I laughed. Serra ran like clockwork. Sex and food. Sex and food. They always went together. I couldn't keep my hands off of her, though. While she examined the menu, I traced the tattoos that ran down her body with my fingers. My favorite was easily the Colt Peacemaker surrounded by roses and lace that crawled up her hip. Grace only just missed it when she shot Serra, keeping Crowley from possessing her. There was a compass across her shoulder that I inspected as she rolled towards the phone and recently, she had added Liberty's name along the line of the arrow that pointed north, and of course, there was her horseshoe and four leaf clover that she and Grace shared. Grace's name was not represented, but a faint, lightly shaded dove floated above the horseshoe that Serra insisted on getting when she was nineteen. I knew that Grace hated her symbol on Serra's back, but Serra didn't care. She always wanted a piece of Grace with her, and that was the easiest way. I was pretty sure that the girls also shared the compass tattoo, but anything else on Grace's body was a mystery.

Serendipity was speaking on the phone, ordering room service for the both of us. She glanced back at me to make sure that a pastrami sandwich sounded good to me (it did) and she ordered a hamburger for herself. "Fries," I whispered to her.

"And a large order of fries," she added as she wrapped up the order. "Room 512. Thanks."

She turned towards me and put her hand on my face, pulling me closer. "Food is coming. Think we have enough time to do it again?"

"Speed record," I said, grinning.

Room service was prompt. I had just fallen to Serra's side as she lay on the bed, pulling her hair into a messy ponytail at the top of her head. "Room service!" a man called from outside the door when we didn't answer the first knock.

"Coming! Coming!" Serra shouted, "Don't leave with my food." She struggled to pull her sweats on, stumbling slightly when she missed the leg of her pants. The Johnny Cash shirt she put on was backwards and she didn't realize it until she was already answering the door. "Hi, thanks," she said, opening the door wide. I was standing, shirtless in the middle of the room, not even bothering to try to find my flannel in the chaos of the room. The attendant smiled slyly as he saw Serra's disheveled hair and backwards shirt and then avoided me completely when he realized I was shirtless. He opened the trays as quickly as he could, Serra giggled, and tipped him as he backed away quickly, shutting the door behind him.

"They're not gonna wanna come back up here," she said, taking a fry from the plate and carrying it in her mouth as she pushed the cart towards the bed. "We'd better enjoy it now."

I chuckled as I sat in the chair opposite my wife and watched her dig into her hamburger. She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. She and Grace had completely different looks: Grace was olive skinned and had wavy blonde hair with blue eyes and arched eyebrows. Serra was so completely opposite, it was hard to believe they were sisters. Serra had mysterious dark brown eyes, amazingly stick-straight chestnut hair, perfect porcelain skin, and more expression in her eyebrows than you could shake a stick at. They were both gorgeous, but each in their own way, and I was obviously much more attracted to Serra.

I'm really glad that she's not the psychic.

As I watched her out of the corner of my eye, I wondered just how many genetic similarities that the girls shared. They looked so different, but had similar personalities, Serra was the more impulsive, outspoken, and opinionated one, and Grace was the more controlled, predictable, more thoughtful, and stoic one. They complemented each other perfectly and we well suited to hunt together, protecting each other with their lives. Now that they were both Winchesters, Dean and I made sure they would never have to fight alone again.

Two days later, we had arrived in Corpus Christi and made a claim to that hotel room as well. This time, our room was a tiny beach house, just yards away from the harbor. There was sand in the living room from our few excursions to the shoreline and clothes littered the entire house as we made love in every room throughout the week. Serra's newest tattoo was healing nicely. I made it a point to lather it with ointment every chance I got: keeping her lower right hip moisturized was not a chore. The protective pentagram was similar to mine, but she also included a few angelic sigils that kept her hidden from most cosmic monsters as well. She had talked to Grace before she had them done; making sure that none of the marks blocked her sister's psychic abilities. The connection was still there, strong as ever, as they tested the marks with Sharpie first.

Serra told me that Grace's powers had gotten stronger, even since New Orleans. Grace could hear her from where we were staying in Texas, almost two thousand miles away. Satisfied that nothing affected their connection, the tattoo artist had made sure to include the feminine flair that Serra had requested, incorporating into the lace that existed already on her hip. It really was a beautiful piece of art.

Coming out of the shower, I could hear Serra on the phone with Grace, lying on the bed, completely naked, with her legs up on the headboard. "I dunno," she was saying, "maybe around seventy or seventy five? I mean, it's still winter." Grace spoke, her voice just a murmur over the speaker. "We've been down a couple of times, but really. The house is so nice."

 _You're not going outside,_ Grace was saying over the phone to her sister, _you're just a horny hermit!_

"And what if I am?" Serra said, laughing.

 _Use protection,_ came Grace and Serra's automatic response. _Unless you wanna end up like me. Honeymoon baby._

"Oh, God," Serra said, glancing back at me as I was pulling on a pair of jeans. "No. I'm not done with him yet."

 _Neither was I,_ Grace said, still laughing, _but here I am with a baby._

"At least she's cute," Serra replied. I was dying to know what they were talking about. Serra winked at me and I smiled in return. "Okay, big sister. Off to do some more fucking."

 _You're so classy,_ Grace said, giggling. I smiled too, suddenly knowing what they had been discussing. _Be safe. Text me when you leave._

The next few days were heaven on Earth. We spent the majority of our time together naked, making love and then, laying over each other and eating. I knew the end of our time in paradise was coming to an end and sooner or later, we would have to return to reality.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Dean

The week after Sam and Serra got back from their honeymoon, they moved into their new house, and suddenly, our lives fell into the comfort of routine. Leaving Libby got easier, but still not something I enjoyed, and Grace wrapped the school year as summer found its way back to us.

She visited me at the shop occasionally, bringing me bacon cheeseburgers and a happy Libby during my lunch breaks. We would camp out on the floor of my bay; Grace would sit on the creeper and I would lean against a wheel, and we would eat and talk and watch Lib experience new things like French fries or milkshakes from her seat in the stroller. Sometimes, she would visit Serra at work too, bringing her sandwiches and help rock the babies from the NICU to sleep. One night in particular, Serra came home, ready to tell a story as she barged her way into the kitchen from the backyard.

"Did Grace tell you what she did today?" she exclaimed as the door slammed behind her and Lib crawled her way across the floor to greet her aunt.

I drained the spaghetti I cooked in the sink and glanced back towards Serra. "Hi to you, too. And no. What did she do?" I looked over at my wife, who was stirring sauce in a pot with a wooden spoon.

Serra helped herself to a beer from the fridge and leaned against the counter as she spoke. "Baby Girl Greer will get to go home next week as long as her vitals stay up, thanks to my big sister."

Turning to stare at Grace, she blushed and shook her head. "What did you do?" I asked her, smiling.

"Nothing. I was tired of hearing about her suffering and not making any progress, especially considering she and Lib are almost the same age." Grace smiled at our daughter as she watched her pull herself up to a standing position against Serra's leg. "I mean, look at her. She was a preemie too, but now, you'd never know."

Serra bent down to pick Libby up off the ground and grinned. "Cut to the chase, Gracie," Serra said, making a face. She stared right at me and tilted her head. "She came to rock the babies, but instead, healed Girly Greer's heart."

"You healed her?" I asked, turning to lean on the counter as well, smiling widely at my wife. "Is this going to become a thing? Start walking around, performing miracles?"

Grace laughed, still embarrassed. "I just couldn't stand it," she said, still shaking her head. "And start calling her by her name, Sere."

"You know why we don't," Serra said, taking a drink of her beer with a serious expression.

I looked from sister to sister, confused. "I don't."

Serra took a deep, shaky breath. "The nurses have this tradition; don't get attached. It's too draining on you emotionally if you call them by their names and then end up losing them."

"She's not going anywhere, now," Grace said quietly. "Her name is Natalie."

"Yes," Serra said, smiling, "yes it is."

…..

Before we knew it, Meatloaf was walking. She started slowly by taking a step or two and then Johnny would run by in the field behind our houses and she would get distracted and fall, giggling in the wheat. We spent most nights in the field or the barn, letting Libby experience life outside of a car, as a normal toddler. We let her crawl in the weeds, touch bugs, dig in the dirt and get her hands dirty, because that's what kids are supposed to do. Liberty was beautiful, just like her mother, with blonde, curly hair and a big, semi-toothless grin. She had my dimple on her left cheek and big green eyes. Most of the time, I couldn't believe I had it so good, or how much love I had for her. I never realized that you could love something so small, so much.

Sam and Serra were happily settled into their routines as well. Sam had graduated from school last spring and right on the spot, the university he graduated from hired him as a junior professor of religious studies. The school was paying for his graduate degree and he was in heaven with his nose in the books. Serra was promoted to Lead Nurse NICU later that summer, her intuition amazed her superiors and she nursed hundreds of babies back to health in the NICU nursery.

I was still at the shop, rocking it as house manager. The car that put me on my ass was a 1967 Pontiac GTO…the old man that brought it to me wanted to give it to his son for a wedding present after it had sat in storage for the past fifteen years. Everything on it needed to be replaced and it became the Golden Goose as I transformed it over the hardest ten weeks I had ever gone through at the shop. Every part that I ordered came damaged or the wrong year. It was frustrating, but at the end of the rebuild, it was the proudest that I had ever been of a car I had worked on. Goose was perfect, back to factory and shining under the fluorescents.

The first love of my life, Grace, was still in love with teaching, getting another set of snot-nosed four-year-olds when the leaves began to turn. She was as happy as I had ever seen her. There hadn't been anymore movement from the demons that had circled our house almost a year earlier, and no news was good news when it came to Angel Radio and Cas. We would see him every once and awhile, showing up when he felt like it; either to help Jody with babysitting or to simply sit in the long grass in the middle of the field a month or two after Libby's first birthday, watching her with glee as she ran in circles around him.

Months flew by and early, one late-winter morning, Grace managed to get out of bed without waking me up. Rolling over to glance at the clock, I realized that it was early; earlier than it should be. I listened carefully, thinking she was up with Lib, but I couldn't hear either of their voices. Silently, on alert, I padded across the floor of our room, about to walk past the bathroom, but I noticed that the door was shut.

"Grace?" I whispered, walking up to the door and pushing it open gently, "Gracie?" She was kneeling on the floor in front of the toilet, looking miserable. "Oh, baby, you okay?" I walked over and took her hair out of her hand and reached for the hair tie that lay on the counter top.

Only nodding, she retched again, gasping for air after she was sick. "What did you eat last night?" I asked, rubbing her back and kneeing next to her while I handed her a towel.

She wiped her face and leaned back, glancing at me. Shaking her head, she raised her eyebrows at me in the dark, "Same shit you ate."

"I'm sorry, honey. You want me to call a sub for you?"

"I'm not sick, Dean," she said, leaning over the toilet again.

I paused to stare at her, the idea dawning on me for the first time. "You're pregnant."

Grace laughed while she leaned, "I would say so," she said, wiping her mouth with the towel again. "I threw up yesterday morning too."

"Sneaky, ninja morning sickness," I said, grinning. "You're pregnant?" I repeated, still smiling widely. "Holy shit, Grace." She laughed again, sitting back on her knees. In the darkness, we hugged and she cried and I laughed. Suddenly pushing away from me, she was sick one more time and I still sat next to her, imagining a sibling for Liberty. I would be a father of two.

Oh, God.

Two kids.

I froze while I watched Grace clean herself up and she glanced down at me. "You okay?" she asked, noticing that I hadn't moved.

 _Two kids._ I thought, still staring.

"Yeah, two kids," Grace repeated, hearing my thoughts as usual. "Under two."

"Two under two," I repeated, the shock rattling through my mind.

Grace let me sit on the floor while she pulled her hair up into a bun. "Through the pill again, by the way. I just think you should know that."

I nodded, making a face. "Strong swimmers," I said, monotone. Taking a few steps towards me, she smiled and extended her hand. I glanced up at my gorgeous wife and grinned while taking her hand and pulling her down to the floor with me. Grace landed between my legs and I wrapped my arms around her, kissing her. We hugged and laughed again on the floor, talking quietly in each other's arms until the sun came up.


	13. Chapter 13

HI guys! I know it's been ultra-fluff lately, (mainly because I love seeing the Winchesters so happy,) but in the next couple of chapters, there will definitely be some action kicking into gear. Thanks for reading!

...

Chapter 13

Sam

Life had never been better than it had been over the last year. Serra and I found our stride at our new house, Serra was promoted, I graduated and got hired at the university as an assistant professor of religious studies. We watched Libby grow and celebrated her birthday in the field in between our houses. Dean and Grace thrived together as we continued our daily lives.

One morning, Serra's phone rang as the sun came up and it was Grace, laughing over the other end as Serra struggled to function. "What?" Serra mumbled as she rolled over, trying to grasp what her sister had said. "Why? I don't start my shift until nine. Why are you doing this to me?"

I took the phone from Serra and put it to my ear. "What's up, Grace?"

"You guys should come over for breakfast. Jody's making pancakes." Grace paused and I could hear Libby's voice in the background.

"Hot," she said, near the phone. Grace must be holding her.

"Yes, they're hot," Grace repeated to Liberty, "Anyway, come over. There's lots."

I nodded and smiled, "Yeah, sure. We'll be over in about fifteen."

I set the phone down and pulled the blankets off of Serra. A full grown Johnny came pounding up the stairs, hearing Serra, and jumping on the bed, he attacked her with slobbery kisses. "No!" Serra yelled, feigning anger and pushing the black lab away. "Get off me! Down! Off the bed!"

Grabbing him by the collar, I led him away from her, laughing at his giant wagging tail. "Everyone's happy to see you, Serra. Come on, join the party."

Curling up into a tighter ball, she rolled away from me and covered her head. "No."

I pulled off my shirt and grabbed the first flannel that I saw. I buttoned it as I let Johnny go and he jumped back onto the bed, lying down next to Serra, still licking her face. She tried to hide her face in her pillow, but Johnny was a good digger, pulling the pillows away from her face, still wagging his tail obnoxiously.

"Fine!" she yelled, finally, sitting up with Johnny still glued to her side. "Fine, you big, annoying lug. I'm up." She stared him in the face, and he stared back, his whole body moving as his tail flew back and forth. Serra turned and held his face with both of her hands, guiding his forehead to her own in their morning ritual greeting. "I love you, too, weirdo," she said, letting go of his furry face. He bounded off the bed and ran down the stairs, knowing she would be close behind.

Tossing her a shirt, she pulled it on, over her sport bra, and grabbed a hoodie from the pile on the floor. Leaving her hair stuffed into the hood, she stood to pull on flannel pants and headed towards the bathroom, kissing her hand and waving it in my direction. I laughed, following her down the hall and down the steps.

"Where are my fuzzy boots?" Serra asked, turning in a complete circle. "If they're still upstairs, I'm not going."

"I'll go get them," I said, laughing. I ran back up stairs, two at a time, and found them, predictably in the pile she had created yesterday during her nightly strip tease as she entered our bedroom. Coming back down the steps, I set her boots in front of her and held her hand as she struggled to put them on.

"There had better be coffee," she muttered under her breath. "It's not even 6:30 yet."

I laughed again, helping her with her second boot. Johnny waited patiently by the front door, already knowing that we were heading over to Dean and Grace's. "Alright, bitchsass. Let's go get you caffeinated."

She took my hand and trudged to the door, following Johnny and I down the steps. He bolted across the field behind the house, a black streak through the brown grass that blew in the winter air. Waiting at their backdoor, Johnny whined slightly, wagging his tail in anticipation of seeing Libby. I saw Dean's face in the doorway, letting him in and waving slightly as us, still walking through the wheat.

By the time we made it up to the porch, Libby and Johnny were wrestling on the floor, her tiny voice was giggling hysterically as he wagged his tail and licked her while pinning her to the ground. "Alright, Johnny, alright," Dean said, pulling him back gently. He helped Lib off the floor and she continued to giggle, petting his fur and wagging her butt.

"There's coffee, right?" Serra said, moving passed me and towards the coffee pot. "Oh, thank God."

Grace handed her a mug without a word and moved to the side so she could get to the hot coffee. Dean put the bottle of creamer on the counter top and I could tell there was something different about him, just by his face and the way he moved. He was bursting to say something.

Avoiding his gaze with a coffee cup in her hand, Grace smiled as well. I glanced back at my brother and laughed. "Alright, what is this?"

Jody clapped her hands together. "Yeah, spill, you two. What's going on?"

Smiling at each other, Dean took another sip of his coffee as he perched himself on the countertop near the sink in his usual position. "Go ahead, Gracie."

She turned towards us and tilted her head, making a face. "I'm pregnant."

Jody squealed in delight and I clapped Dean on the back. "Congratulations, man," I said, laughing again as Dean pulled me into a hug. "Two kids!"

"Under two," he added, shaking his head.

Serra turned to stare at her sister. There was a moment of silence between the girls as Serra thought towards Grace. The girls had tears in their eyes as Grace nodded. They embraced and began to giggle. "You're up shit creek," Serra said, pulling away and wiping her eyes. "You know the second one is gonna end up being like me."

"Oh, shit," Dean said, shaking his head. "Can she not?"

"She?" I said, raising my eyebrows. "Do we know it's another girl?"

Dean shook his head and took another drink of coffee. "No, but knowing my luck, I'll get another one." He smiled at me and lifted his eyebrows, "It's my destiny to be surrounded by beautiful women."

Grace walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. They kissed tenderly and I was so happy to see that Dean and Grace were still so in love. _Another kid,_ I thought. _Another Winchester._

Turning to wink at me, Grace nodded slightly. "Yep," she said. "You know, I shouldn't be the only one mass producing."

Serra punched her in the arm, taking a drink of coffee. "I had a hard time getting up to get _pancakes,_ " she said. "What makes you think I will be able to get up to deal with a _baby?_ "

"You do it professionally," Jody said, laughing. "I think you'd be fine."

Libby pawed at me and I looked down at my niece, smiling. "Hey, Lib," I said.

"Up," she said, demanding. She opened and closed her little fists as she held her arms up above her head. "Up, Sam."

"You heard the lady," Serra said, smiling. I bent to pick her up, holding her on my hip as I had so many times. Johnny lay by my feet, his tail thumping the floor as he watched me hold Liberty. As I looked around at my amazing family, I couldn't help but think about how lucky we were.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Dean

The next few days were a blur of activity; everyone was still on the new baby high. Grace was in the bathroom more often than not, just like with Liberty, and I did what I could to make her more comfortable. The only thing I saw her eat was plain Cheerios from Libby's stash and the occasional Sprite. Lib seemed to know something was different, too. She had attached herself to Grace's side, unwilling to be separated for very long. It made me wonder about our eldest's psychic abilities or at least her intuition. She climbed over Grace every chance she got, making sure to be in the spotlight all of the time.

I left for work early one morning; the Golden Goose was finally going home to her new owner. I wanted to make sure the paperwork was in order and that her clear coat had set properly. I kissed my girls goodbye, headed out the door and drove off, thinking everything was the same. Little did I know, Cas had appeared in the middle of the kitchen as soon as the door shut behind me.

…..

"Hey Cas," Grace said, greeting her friend as she chewed a mouthful of Cheerios. "What's the word?"

He greeted Liberty with a wide mouth smile before he addressed Grace, "Hello, tiny Winchester!" Picking her up, he turned back to Grace and the serious look crossed his face again. "I've seen some things lately, and I wanted to know if you have seen them as well."

Grace shook her head, "Honestly, Cas, a-bombs could be going off in my backyard. I've been so sick, I haven't noticed anything except the fact that our bathroom upstairs needs a deep cleaning."

Cas ignored her comment and nodded slightly. "The demons have been on the move lately, circling the house again, watching your routines. Take adequate precautions, Grace."

"We always do, Cas," she said. Glancing at Jody she raised her eyebrows, "You hear that, Jody? Keep an eye on your six."

She nodded from her spot at the kitchen table. "Noted," she said, taking a drink of her coffee. "We'll hang out in the panic room for the next few days. Naptime safety."

Castiel seemed pleased at the responses from the women in the kitchen and put Liberty down. She toddled away, exploring the world. Cas looked back up to Grace and smiled lightly. "I heard about you and Dean procreating again. Congratulations are in order."

"You make it sound so romantic," Grace laughed, taking another handful of Cheerios out of the bag. "Thanks, Cas."

With a swoosh of his wings, he was gone and Libby was left waving to the air; her tiny hand opening and closing to the open space of the kitchen.

Grace walked over to her daughter and picked her up, nuzzling her face and kissing her cheeks. "Okie dokie, love. I've gotta go to school."

"School," Libby repeated. "Love."

"I love you too, baby girl." Grace put her down, gave Jody a wave and grabbed her bag and her keys. "See you later, guys. Home by three-thirty."

Jody smiled, walking over to Libby. "Sounds good, sweetie. See you later."

Grace walked out of the door, pins and needles crawling up the back of her neck, an ominous feeling settling into her chest. She glanced back at Liberty and Jody, smiled lightly and closed the door.

…

"Dean, call on line two," Eric's voice echoed through my bay as I smiled at Gooses' new owner and shook his hand.

"Excuse me," I said, walking over to the phone hanging on the wall. I glanced at the clock; nine o'clock. "This is Dean," I said, clearing my throat.

"Hello, Dean. This is Julia from Grace's school?"

My heart stopped and panic swept through my body. "Hi, Julia. What can I help you with?"

"Is Grace home sick?"

The searing heat from the fear that flowed through my veins burned. "No, as far as I know, she left pretty soon after me for work. She's not there?"

Julia answered quietly, "No, and we haven't been able to get a hold of her on her phone. It's not like her to not call in. We're a little worried."

 _A little?_ I thought, my eyes, burning with trepidation. I closed them, counted to three and took a deep breath. "I'll call and I'll try her sister, too. Maybe she knows something."

"Please call us back and let us know. We're concerned," Julia said, "Please?"

I nodded at the phone, trying not to take off running. "Yeah, sure. I'll call back in a bit." I slammed the phone down and pulled my phone out of my pocket. No missed calls. No texts.

Panic. All I felt was wild panic. I dialed Serra's number and waited patiently. One ring. Two. Three. On the fourth ring, I hung up, trying to keep my wits about me. I dialed Sam's number immediately after.

Thankfully, he answered on the second ring. "Hey, Dean, what's up?"

"Have you heard from Grace today?"

Sam was confused, "No, why?"

Putting a hand over my face, I clenched my jaw together. "How about Serra? Have you heard from Serra?"

"She's at work, Dean. Why?" Sam adjusted his position in the chair he sat on. The squeak came through the speaker to my side of the phone. "Dean. What's happening?"

"Grace never showed at work this morning." The words tumbled out of my mouth like bile; bitter and disgusting. "I can't get her on her cell either."

Sam was silent on the other end of the phone. "What do you want me to do?" My brother knew me well; he was already in business mode, knowing that the best thing for me is to boss him around.

"Get a hold of Serra. See if she's heard anything. I'm gonna call the school back and retrace her steps." I was already heading towards my locker in the back of the building. "It could be something as simple as morning sickness on the side of the road."

"On it," Sam said, hanging up the phone.

I walked straight to the leather jacket Grace bought me in New Orleans and I put it on, heading now to the front desk. "Eric, call Tommy to come in and cover my shift. I gotta go."  
"You gotta go?" he repeated, confused. "You're the floor supervisor right now."

"Family emergency, man," I said, shrugging. "You need to figure it out." I didn't hesitate any longer and threw myself into Baby. Like a rock star, she started right up, and we peeled out to retrace Grace's routine steps. I held my phone to my ear, still waiting for Grace to pick up the phone. "Come on, Gracie. Pick it up."

One. Two rings. Three. Four. "Hi, this is Grace. Please—"

I slammed the phone down on the seat next to me as I punched it. Baby flew down the highway, kicking up leaves and dust in her path. I turned hard around the corner to the road that led to our house. I picked up my phone again, holding it in my hand, debating whether or not to worry Jody just yet. I slowed down enough to stare down our driveway minutes later, pausing long enough to see if Grace's Chevelle was still parked in front of the barn. The telltale purple car wasn't there and I swore under my breath.

I made the decision to call Jody, knowing Grace's car wasn't there. Her phone rang twice before she picked up. "Hey, Dean, miss Lib already?"

"When did Grace leave for school?" I said, ignoring Jody's sentiment.

"What? Same time as always," Jody responded, her voice rising an octave automatically worried. "Why?"

"Fuck," I said, closing my eyes.

"Dean, you talk to me. What's happening?" she said, going into Sheriff mode.

"Grace didn't show for work this morning. She's not answering her phone." I made a u-turn while talking to Jody and tore off down the highway again. "I'm gonna retrace her route, see if I can find anything."

"Have you tried Serra? Maybe they're together?"

I shook my head, "Serra didn't pick up either, and if they're together, they're gonna get an earful about responsibility." I rubbed my face again, trying to stay focused. "Holy shit, they'd better be together so I can yell at both of them for giving me a coronary."

"Get to driving, calm down, and I'll make a few calls," Jody soothed. "Is the GPS on in her phone?"

"Yeah," I said. "Trace it, will you?"

"Will do. Call me if you hear anything." Jody hung up the phone almost immediately and I turned west, heading back towards Grace's school on the route she normally took.

Minute by agonizing minute passed as I searched the highway for Grace's Chevelle. I ended up at her school with no sign of it. Tracing back down the only other route, I headed back for the Big House. As I rounded the bend towards the farmland that surrounded our property, I saw fresh skid marks on the opposite side of the highway. There was no one behind me, so I threw it into reverse and backed up along the path.

They were new; I could still smell the rubber. I parked on the side of the road, got out of my car, and stared at the pattern of the tire treads. One set was from a larger vehicle, a pick-up truck, maybe, and the second set was from a smaller, but heavier car. The smaller car hit its brakes, hard; a dragging rubber pattern was imprinted on the road. Then, as I walked the lines, the truck had impacted the smaller car, pushing it into a spin. The small, heavy car had made a figure eight as it was pushed off the road. I glanced up and stared into the tall grass and woods that surrounded the road. The heavy skid marks ended in the gravel, but the truck's marks were still there, meaning one of two things: the heavy car was towed away after the wreck or it had flipped, its tires leaving the pavement entirely.

I walked into the gravel, my heart in my throat as I looked down into the ravine on the side of the road. There it was, Grace's purple Chevelle, upside down at the bottom of the creek.

"Grace!" I screamed, jumping down, panic ripping through my chest. "Gracie!" I made it down the side of the ravine, pounding on the side of the Chevelle. "Grace!" I continue to yell. I ran to the driver's side and saw that the door had been ripped open and drag marks were across the dirt, where I assumed someone had pulled her from the wreckage.

I struggled to stay controlled. _Think, Winchester, think_ , I told myself, trying to figure this out. "If she had crashed, there would have been phone calls. Someone would have called me," I said aloud, keeping myself focused. "There would be a tow-truck, pulling Smoke on the Water out of the creek." I knew this because we had wrecks at the shop all the time, usually brought by the local tow-company whose logo still made skin crawl.

 _Shit shit shit shit,_ I couldn't help myself. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed Jody's number again, waiting for the ring in my ear.

"Anything?" she said, answering on the first ring.

I turned back to the Chevelle. "I found her car at the bottom of a creek bed, flipped over."

"Oh my God," Jody whispered into the phone. "Is she alive?"

"She's not in the car," I said, close to tears. "There's drag marks leading away from the driver's side, like someone pulled her from the car."

"The hospital would have called you, Dean," Jody said, still in Sheriff mode.

I nodded, agreeing. "I know. Someone took her."

"Who would take her, Dean?"

I glanced up at the sky, considering the demons from a year ago. "I don't know." I gasped, trying not to lose it. "What do I do, Jody?"

"We trace her phone. Then we'll go from there." She hung up, and I stared at my phone, hesitating only for a minute.

I dropped to my hands and knees and crawled as far as I could into the Chevelle, looking for anything I could find that would point me in the direction I needed to be in order to find Grace. Her purse was in the back seat, her school bag tossed with papers everywhere. The contents of her purse were all over the car, scattered from the flip. I held my phone out and dialed Grace's number again, wondering if her phone was simply still in the car. I couldn't hear it ring, so at least it might still be on her. It occurred to me, as I backed my way out of the car, that I needed to call her school back. I dreaded that phone call, mainly because saying it out loud meant it was real.

From my position on the ground, I dialed the school where Gracie worked and explained that she had been in a car accident and that I would keep them posted.

I gave myself two minutes on the cold dirt to fucking freak out. I held my head in my hands and ran through the last few days in my head, trying to piece together any sign that Grace had given off that she may have heard or seen this coming. I came out empty handed, knowing that the last few days had been all about the new pregnancy and we hadn't really had the time or energy to deal with anything else. I mean, hell, she had been sick for most of the time that she had been conscious, so if she had seen anything in that psychic fifty/fifty head of hers, she may have been too tired to give it much thought.

My phone rang from its position on the ground next to me. I glanced down to see who it was, a fleeting glimmer of hope passed through me, thinking it might be Grace.

I shook myself out of it and picked it up to answer, "Anything, Sam?"

"I can't get a hold of Serra either," came my baby brother's response. His voice was tight, afraid, just like mine.

I stood carefully, avoiding the open door next to me. "What do you mean? Her phone or at the hospital too?"

"They haven't seen her come in today. Her shift started at nine." I glanced at the watch on my wrist. 9:22. "Have you found anything?" Sam continued, breaking my thought process.

"Yeah," I said, turning to stare at Smoke behind me, covered in mud, scraped and collapsed in the worst kind of ways. "I found Grace's car."

"What?" Sam gasped, "where?"

Closing my eyes, it hurt to say it aloud again. "Flipped at the bottom of a creek bed."

"Meet me at home," Sam said, obviously standing from whatever he had been sitting on. "I'm retracing Serra's path and I'll meet you there in twenty minutes. Call Jody and see if she can run a trace on the girls' phones."

"I already did. Nothing yet."

"Dean," Sam said, his voice commanding, taking charge. "Grace needs to you to stay focused. Let's use what we know and we'll figure this out."

I nodded, slamming the upside down door shut after grabbing Grace's wallet and keys. I climbed back up the gravel slope and glanced at the tracks left by the pick-up truck again. They left a muddy trail after coming off of the pavement and headed off in the same direction. "I'm onto something," I said, "I'll call you in a bit. I'm not going home."

"Dean, come on," Sam pleaded. "We need a plan."

"Follow up with Jody," I said, getting back into my car. I threw her in drive and kicked up gravel as I drove across the median to follow the trail left by the pick-up. "I'll call you later."

I hung up the phone, flooring it and was on high alert as I drove down the road.

Fifteen minutes out into the boonies, there was a t-intersection. A fifty/fifty shot at picking the right direction. _Of course,_ I thought to myself, weighing my options. I had no idea what was to the east, but to the west, Sutton Cemetery was only four minutes away. If I went with my gut, I would turn right. I stared down the road to the east and didn't feel right about it. West it is.

As I approached the gates to the cemetery, flashes of the past crept through my brain. Big shit goes down at this cemetery, and this, apparently, was no exception. A small pick-up was parked near the mausoleum in the center of the field. On high alert, I idled my way through the gates and shut of the engine.

There was no one there, but I still took every precaution in the book. I hurried to the back of the Impala, opened her trunk and loaded my pistol and took three extra clips. Checking all of the other ammo boxes, I was surprised to find that everything else was empty. "Fuck," I said quietly, searching for more ammunition. "Nothing?"

I grabbed the box of shotgun shells that remained, still loaded with rock salt and let the trunk lid close as I took the sawed off with me. Cocking the shotgun with one hand, I dumped the extra shells into my pockets, putting two in my mouth as I lowered the deck lid. Sneaking as quietly as I could, I crept towards the pick-up and aimed the shotgun into the open windows. Nothing.

Running around to the other side, I opened the door quietly and searched through the glove box and under the seats. My hand came out bloody when I felt under the seat and glancing down to see its source, I could see mud and gravel mixed together with it, rubbed along the side of the bench seat. "Grace," I muttered, knowing it was hers.

Out of nowhere, I could hear the familiar ringtone blasting into the eerie silence of the cemetery. Grace was the only thirty-something kindergarten teacher that had "Smoke on the Water" as her ringtone. Momentarily, a bit of pride sailed through my mind, searching for the phone before it stopped ringing.

"Jackpot!" I whispered, pulling it out from under the seat. It was alight with Jody's GPS tracking call. I let the ring stop and pulled my own phone out of my pocket, ready to call Jody back. I glanced around behind me to make sure I was still alone and held the phone with my shoulder as I kept watch, keeping my gun at the ready.

"Anything?" Jody answered on the first ring.

I whispered in response, "I found the truck that pushed her off the road. I'm at Sutton. Again." I whipped around, thinking I heard movement. "I've got blood and her phone from the truck, but no sign of anyone else."

"Come home and we'll regroup."

Shaking my head, I continued to whisper. "No, Jody. Serra's missing too. Sam just called me a few minutes ago and she never showed at the hospital."

It was Jody's turn to whisper, "Oh my God."

"I know," I said, my stomach doing another flip. "Sam's gonna retrace her path and see if he can find anything. If he calls, send him here."

"Will do."

I hung up and gently closed the door of the pick-up. Taking my time, I made a loop around the entirety of the cemetery, looking for any more signs from Grace or her attackers. She was smart. I knew if she had been conscious when they took her, she would have done anything in her power to leave me a breadcrumb or two. So far, her phone and her blood were the only things I could find.

About to call it, I walked back to Baby and opened the trunk to drop the sawed-off back into the hidden space under the deck lid. Checking behind me again, I popped the trunk and noticed matted grass and gravel scattered around a muddy hole near the mausoleum. Trotting back over to the small building, I stared at the tracks in the ground. There had been a scuffle; two sets of large boot prints surrounded one set of smaller footprints made by someone wearing flats, just like the ones that Grace wore to work this morning. _She stood on her own here,_ I thought, trying to piece together what may have happened. The heavy boot marks looked like they were ushering her forward; the bigger imprints were deep. She gave them some trouble.

The next set of foot prints were paired with an imprint of a body…someone had hit the ground, hard. The impression in the mud and grass was too big to be Grace. "Good girl," I whispered, continuing up the path to the mausoleum. She tried to take off here, the toes of her flats getting muddy as she broke out into a run. Following the imprints about five feet off the path, there was a scorch mark in the dampness; either something small caught on fire in the dew or my kick-ass wife smited a demon after she had been in a rollover crash. I would bet my life on the fact that she was down to one attacker.

There, in the gravel near the path was where the lone assailant had managed to overpower her; Grace's body had hit the mud here, hard. There were drag marks as he must have tried to pick her up unsuccessfully leading back to the path of the mausoleum. Once the footprints hit the cement, they disappeared. The trail was cold.

I ran back to the Impala. Now I knew two things: Grace was alive and fighting, and she had been taken by demons.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I called Jody back. "Dean?" she answered immediately.

"Forget Sutton for now. They're not here. Demons took her, she was able to smite one of them after a scuffle. I'm betting the one that was left pulled her into the mausoleum. I'm thinking it's a doorway."

"A doorway to where?"

Saying it out loud would be painful, but it needed to be done. If the demons took Grace (or Serra for that matter) it would be for retaliation for Crowley. They would have wanted to take her to the one place where they felt completely in control.

"Hell," I said, closing my eyes against the idea of my pregnant wife in The Pit. "We need to get a hold of Cas. You and Lib need to be in the panic room until further notice."

"We're already down here," Jody said quietly.

I nodded, thankful for my friend. "I'm gonna meet up with Sam. He's retracing Serra's path. We'll be in contact."

"You be careful, you hear?"

"Thank you, Jody."

…..

Grace woke up with chains attached to her wrists, pulling her arms away from her body, crucifix-style. She sat on a cold, muddy floor and attempted to clear her head. Licking her lips, she tasted blood and wondered how terrible she actually looked; flashes of flipping the Chevelle crept through her mind, but the last thing she remembered was being hit over the head with the butt of a gun. The welt on her forehead throbbed with pain and she was pretty sure it bled as well.

She took a deep shaky breath, breathing in the stale smell of the cell and attempting to look around as much as she could. The place looked medieval: bars across the opening of the room that she was locked in, and the chains that bound her had to be at least five hundred years old. The iron was heavy and it was exhausting to have her arms extended the way they were.

Replaying the last few hours in her head, Grace tried to piece together what had happened. _I got ready for work, kissed Lib. Said goodbye to Jody. Closed the door, but had a bad feeling in the back of my mind._

Grace had gotten into Smoke on the Water and drove away, the radio playing some of her favorite songs since Dean had installed an aftermarket stereo in the dash. Nothing had been out of ordinary until she had picked up a tail. Remembering how she tried to lose the pick-up, she shook her head at her reactions; they had dulled without use. The pick-up had pit-maneuvered her; ramming the back corner of the Chevelle just enough to send her into a spin. Grace had tried to gun it, back the opposite way from the truck, but he hit her hard, pushing her up onto two wheels and forcing her off the road. Before she had a chance to do anything else, he had shoved Smoke towards the gravel shoulder of the highway and she had flipped completely, flying down the embankment, rolling three times.

Grace shook her head again, remembering blacking out momentarily. Before she knew it, two men had grabbed her by the shoulders, dragging her out of the car. She flashed to the bits of conversation that she had heard, coming in and out of consciousness.

"There's a baby seat in the back."

"Yeah, she's fucking Winchester. They must have a kid."

"Which Winchester?"

"The short one."

 _What the hell?_ Grace thought, still stunned as to what had happened over the course of the morning. Continuing through her thoughts, she came to the arrival at Sutton. A cold fear had pressed its way into her chest. The last time she had been here hadn't gone well. Killing Crowley flew through her mind again and somewhere deep in her chest, she knew that was the reason she was here.

The two men dragged her out of the pick-up upon arrival at the cemetery. She had a jolt of adrenaline as she made a break for it, punching the lead man in the face and attempting to make a run for it. They had tackled her, taking her to the ground and she did everything she knew how to do to keep them from taking her easily. One of her hands had been free long enough to touch one of them on the forehead, palm out. She closed her eyes and burned him from the inside. He left a smoking stain on the grass in front of her, just the way that other demons had in the past. _Demons,_ she thought, figuring out more details. _Revenge for Crowley._

 _Holy shit,_ Grace thought, panic ripping through her. _I'm in Hell._


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Sam

I've never been more afraid than I am right now. Grace is missing, her car is upside down in a creek bed and Serra is nowhere to be found. I've heard Dean's worried voice before, but it's always been about something that he can see. We knew what the problem was. Grace getting shot and almost not making it out of surgery. That was a problem that he could see. He was worried. Grace being in an emergency c-section to deliver Liberty. That was a problem that he could see.

We have no idea where Grace is or even if she's alive, same goes for Serra, but my wife isn't pregnant. If I'm a wreck, I don't even want to know what is going through my brother's head.

I dialed Serra's number again, expecting different results the seventh time. This time, her phone didn't even ring. It went straight to voicemail. "This is Serra. If you leave a message, I'm not going to call you back so—"

Hanging up the phone, I tossed it on the seat next to me. In route back towards our house, I took my time on the highway; there was only one route to the hospital that she worked at, and if her truck was on the side of the road, as Grace's had been, I would have to be looking for it.

It only took about fifteen minutes to reach the intersection that led to the Small House that we lived in. Shaking my head, I couldn't think of what to do next, so I turned around in the middle of the street and drove back to the other side of the property, where Dean and Grace's driveway was.

As I drove the other way, I saw Dean whip by in the Impala. He must have noticed me, because the next thing I knew, he was driving across the grassy median in order to get to my side of the road. I slowed to a stop and pulled over on the shoulder, got out of my El Camino and waited for Dean to pull up behind me.

"You find Serra?" Dean shouted as he approached in the gravel.

Shaking my head, I said, "No, nothing. Her phone is off now; it just goes straight to voicemail."

Dean shrugged out of his leather jacket and tossed it through the back window of the Impala. He took a deep, unsteady breath and ran his hands through his hair, and then rested his hands over his face. The concern was pouring out of him and he was barely holding it together.

"If Serra's gone too, we need to figure this out. If they dragged her to Sutton, then maybe they're in the same place," Dean was saying, almost to himself. "Cas could show up any time now," he yelled to the sky, "maybe he has some ideas that we could bang around."

"I've been trying," Castiel's voice came from behind us and we both whipped to face him. "The girls were taken this morning, by Crowley's most loyal demons."

"You couldn't stop them?" I yelled, angry that Cas had no more information. "You couldn't have told us they were coming?"

"I am not a fortune teller, Sam," Cas' voice was deep and irritated. "I had no knowledge of what would happen today."

Dean was close to losing control and he approached Cas with an fury that I had never seen in him. His voice was dangerously low and he spoke only loud enough for Castiel to hear. "If you knew about this before it happened, and you didn't tell us about it, we're done."

"I promise you, Dean. I only knew right before it happened." Dean backed away, only slightly. Castiel continued, pointing back towards the highway. "I heard her panic, cry out, and then ask for my help. By the time I appeared, her car was already upside down and they were gone."

"And you can't track them?"

Cas shook his head. "There are some sort of angel banishment charms or sigils on whatever vehicle they drove. I am unable to follow where it went and I can longer hear Grace."

Dean turned and walked away, most likely to keep from hitting Cas. I stepped towards our friend and put a hand on his shoulder. "It's not your fault, man. We let our guard down, and he's gonna punish himself for it."

Castiel glanced at Dean, who was squatting in the middle of the highway, holding his head in his hands. "I don't know what to do," he said, shrugging. "With the angel sigils and my powers being blocked from communicating with Grace, I will not be able to track where the demons took her."

"So we've gotta do this the old fashioned way," I said, looking over at my brother. "Come on, Dean. Let's go talk to Jody and check on Lib."

Saying Liberty's name stirred something in Dean. He was on his feet immediately and was striding to the Impala with purpose. He wiped his face and got in the car. Without another word, he started her up and peeled out, heading for the Big House. Cas and I exchanged glances and followed suit, getting into the El Camino and following Dean down the road.

Minutes later, we pulled into the driveway and followed Dean into the house. "Jody?" Dean called out, heading down the basement steps. "Jody, it's us."

"Punch in the code, then," came Jody's voice over the intercom.

Dean reached the sealed door of the panic room and keyed in the alpha-numeric code that he and Grace had come up with together. The door popped open and Jody came out, holding Liberty on her him. Her face lit up upon seeing Dean's face and immediately, she reached for him, saying, "Daddy."

"Hey, beautiful," he said quietly, hugging her. She put her forehead on his and they closed their eyes, sharing a quiet moment together before Jody spoke.

"Any news?" she asked, cautiously.

I shook my head at her, still watching Dean and Libby. I knew she was too young to understand what was happening, but I also could see that she understood enough that Dean was under duress. Suddenly, I understood why Dean was so emotional, besides the fact that his pregnant wife was missing, and most likely injured.

Our mother had been killed by a demon and Dean was old enough to remember what it felt like.

Without warning, my eyes filled with tears and blinking, I turned away from my brother and my niece. We had to find the girls.

Serra blinked once, trying to focus through the pain radiating out of her shoulder and her head. Gingerly, she tested the ability to move; first her hands and feet, then her legs and arms. Her left shoulder was definitely dislocated…that would be a bitch to put back into place on her own. Gently, she reached up with her right hand to feel her head. Glancing at her hand, she rolled her eyes at the fact that her scalp was still profusely bleeding. Slowly, she sat up, and wincing, she unzipped the sweatshirt that covered her scrubs. Tears came to her eyes as she tried to take it off; the pain in her shoulder was almost unbearable. Realizing that she would be unable to take off the scrubs she wore in order to stop the bleeding from her head, she stood slowly and walked towards the muddy cell wall. Glancing around at her surroundings as she made her way across the dirt, she shook her head. "One thing at a time," she said quietly to herself.

Staring at the wall, she closed her eyes and shook her head. "This is going to fucking suck," she whispered. As hard as she could, she threw her shoulder towards the wall, forcing her humerus back into the socket of her scapula. Feeling the solid pop of her joint finding its way back together, she cried out in pain and crumbled to the ground. Almost immediately, she felt relief and she was finally able to take a deep breath. Still using mainly her right arm, Serra took off her scrub shirt, rolled it loosely, and pressed it tightly to her open wound.

Reaching across the dirt, she slowly pulled her sweatshirt back towards her body and used it to cover herself from the chill of the air. Two things immediately worried Serra; going into shock from her injuries and bleeding out from her head. Her nurse's training told her that she needed fluids and to stay conscious.

Doing whatever she could to stay focused, she ran over the morning in her head. Leaving for work, she had put Johnny in the barn, closing the wooden gate that surrounded it behind her. She grabbed her truck keys, started it up and drove her normal route to the hospital.

Early on in the trip, she had noticed that she was being followed by a large truck, much bigger than her own. It had been a black Ford F-350 dually. Knowing that sometimes she overreacted, she tried to ignore it, turning down a side road on a whim to see if it still pursued her. Setting her jaw when it turned the corner as well, she took off down the road, pushing her old truck to its limits. As the road turned around a farm, she pulled hard left, jumping off the road and diving into a cornfield.

The trick almost worked. She drove alone through the corn for a few seconds, heading south through the tall growth, but because her truck made a path as she drove, it wasn't long before the dually was right on her tail again. Serra turned hard right again, whipping the truck around to face her attacker and gunned it. The dually swerved to avoid her and she punched it through the corn. The dually wasn't as agile as her truck and she saw that it wasn't immediately behind her. Serra took a deep breath and opened the door and as it was still rolling through the corn, she jumped.

Hitting the ground and rolling was easy. She felt in her pocket for her phone and broke into an all-out sprint, hauling ass through the corn to the east as her truck continued south. As she jumped through the rows, she could hear the exhaust of the Ford and she tried her best to keep moving as fast as she could.

Before she knew it, she had reached the end of the field as she was dialing 911. "Hello?" she was yelling, "I'm being chased through a corn field off the 40 near Trailridge Road. There's a dually—"

Whipping around at the sound of the Ford's engine, Serra dropped her arm to her side and took off running again, into the corn. "Hello? Miss?" the operator was screaming from the speaker, "Miss?"

Serra was no match for the truck. She turned to face her attacker, ready to drop to the ground as they approached, but was caught off guard when he smiled at her in the most evil of ways. He blinked and the last thing she saw as she hit the ground was the blackness of his eyes.

Taking a trembling breath, Serra blinked to clear the memories, a tear falling to her cheek. "Fucking demons," she breathed. "It's always fucking demons."

"Serra?" a voice floated down the hallway that sounded too much like Grace.

Tenderly, she moved towards the cell bars. "Grace?"

"Oh my God," Grace said, her voice echoing down the tunnel. "Are you okay?"

 _No,_ Serra thought, her shoulder still throbbing and her head pounding. "Yeah, I'm alright." She answered her sister. "Are you?"

"What's wrong with your shoulder and your head?" Grace asked, completely ignoring her own question.

Rolling her eyes, she answered, "It was dislocated. I popped it back, though. Now it just fucking hurts." She glanced up at the blood trickling down her arm, "Now if I could stop bleeding out of my brain, it would be great."

"Jesus," Serra could hear Grace whisper. "At least you sound like you're not in shock."

"Don't count your chickens," Serra responded, sarcastic. "I've only been conscious for about three minutes." Serra adjusted her seat against the muddy wall. "How about you?"

"I'm fine," said Grace, "I just have a bump on my head from where he hit me."

The girls could hear footsteps down the tunnel, approaching their cells. The both quieted, waiting to see who would be greeting them. He approached from Grace's end of the tunnel, stopping to admire his handy work. She looked good in chains. "Hello, Mrs. Winchester," he said, staring at Grace.

"Fuck you," Grace said, making Serra chuckle. It was always nice to hear her sister swear a bit.

Dekar, the demon, clicked his tongue, disappointed. "Such manners," he said, shaking his head. "I invite you to my home and you use such language. It sounds like Dean has rubbed off on you a bit." Grace only stared at him, willing him to burst into flames. Unfortunately, she wasn't nearly as powerful as she wanted to be and she could do nothing from her position in the shackles, so, she remained silent. "We miss him down here, you know," Dekar continued. "It was good times when he and Crowley ruled the roost."

Serra listened from the cage she sat in. She furrowed her eyebrows, knowing about Dean's stint as a demon was one thing, but she had no idea that her brother-in-law had been close to Crowley during that time. She tried to adjust her position again, but with little help from her left arm, she was pretty much stuck on the ground, holding her scrubs to her head. At least her wound had stopped dripping down her elbow.

"Anyway, we decided to make a little trip topside to gather the female Winchesters. It's nice to have a girl or two in the house, you know? Makes it a little bit more homey." Grace remained silent, still staring at her abductor. "What's wrong, Gracie-poo? Devil got your tongue?"

"Why don't you let me down out of these shackles and we can have a real conversation," Grace purred, tilting her head seductively.

"I don't think so," he said. "I like you up there, right where I can keep an eye on you. We'll start our real work tomorrow."

"Work?"

"Oh, yes, honey," Dekar said, leaning on the bars. "Get a good night's sleep. We're gonna see what Grace Winchester is really made of."

With that, he turned and walked back down the tunnel, a heavy door slamming shut at the end of the hall. Grace let her head hang to her chest, exhausted from holding it up against the position she was in. Serra made her way slowly to the edge of the bars and whispered, "Gracie. We gotta get the fuck out of here."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Dean

"Dean, I've got an APB out on Serra's truck. I called in a few favors in the local departments to see if we can scare anything up," Jody was telling me and I was barely listening. She continued anyway, "And I called the tow yard to pull Grace's Chevelle out of the muck. Maybe there's something that we missed—"

"Nothing's there, Jody. They're gone because demons fucking took them," I growled, turning to face her. "We're not gonna find anything in their cars." Sammy turned to me, holding my daughter, and made a face. _Fucking guilt_. "Jody," I breathed, "I know you're just trying to help, and I'm grateful. But Grace is gone, Serra's probably there too, and I need to figure out a way to get into Hell and bring them back."

Cas had remained silent through the entire exchange, only moving slightly when I walked past him in order to get to my floor safe. I knelt to open the combination and glanced up at him. "What are you doing, Cas? Can you hear her?"

Shaking his head slowly, his eyes flicked to mine. "No, Dean, I'm sorry. Grace is completely cut off from me."

I shoved a clip into my gun and refused to look at him, "Because she's dead?"

It took him a long time to answer, forcing my heart into my throat. Finally, I turned to stare at him and he took a breath, raising his shoulders in an attempt at a human movement. "I don't know."

Turning back to the gun safe, I continued to unload the contents all over the dining room table. Sam continued to hold Lib and they both watched me fall back into battle mode. I stood and counted clips and shells that I had left from our hunting days. There wasn't much. It's not like I could go to the local sporting goods store, either; there was a three day grace period to buy ammo in the state of Kansas. Shutting my eyes tightly, I took another calming breath. I knew where the girls were. The answer seemed simple to me.

"You need to get me into Hell," I said, addressing Cas.

He was already shaking his head, knowing my plan. "Dean, you can't just get dropped into Hell, guns blazing. It won't work. Hell is a lot like Heaven; there are catacombs and halls weaving in and out of eternity. Unless we know exactly where the girls are, you could be searching for millennia before you even come close."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Libby trying to get down from Sam's grip. He bent to set her down and she toddled over to me, lifting her hands. I set my guns down on the table and shook my head, hearing Grace, _She is not to be conscious when these are out,_ she had told me, months ago. _I don't her being raised neck-deep in reloading, dismantling, and cleaning guns like we were. I want her to have a normal life._ Glancing at the table again, I picked Lib up and walked away from the pile of weapons, heading towards the couch.

"Momma?" she said, her tiny voice just a whisper.

Immediately, tears came to my eyes, the idea of lying to my daughter was too terrible to consider. The other option wasn't much better, so I came somewhere to the middle, staring into the mirror image of my wife's face. "Momma's not here, baby."

Liberty repeated herself, more stern this time, "Momma."

"I'm gonna try and bring her home, Lib. She's far away," I said, searching for the words. "She got lost. I have to go find her."

Her tiny, chubby hand reached up to my cheek, feeling the stubble from two days of not shaving. I closed my eyes at her touch, leaning my forehead towards hers as we did so often. We rested our heads together momentarily and for the first time, images that weren't mine floated through my mind. Gasping, I pulled away and opened my eyes, staring into Libby's. She smiled at me, realizing that her trick worked.

"What is it?" Castiel asked, stepping forward. "What did she do?"

I ignored him and focused only on Liberty. "Show me again, honey." Lib complied, her hand resting on my cheek again and she closed her eyes, leaning her forehead back on mine. Grace's face floated through my mind again, in the same clothes that she wore to work when she left this morning. I watched Lib's memory as she pushed it towards me, seeing her kiss Grace good-bye, hearing Grace say, "I'll be home about 3:30 today," and finally, the door closing behind her.

I made to move away from Liberty's touch again, but her other hand came up to my face, holding me steady. More images came, more detailed than before. She stood at the sliding glass door that faced the backyard with Johnny, his tail thumping her as it wagged. She showed me the images of black smoke floating across the sky towards Grace's Chevelle as it drove down the driveway. She had seen the small pick-up take off after her down the road.

Lib's hand came away from my face and I blinked, trying to come back to the present. "You saw them," I said to my daughter, obviously having abilities, just like her mother.

"Bad," Libby said, pointing to the sky in the backyard from the slider again.

"Yeah," I agreed. "Bad guys."

Libby nodded, seemingly knowing what happened. "Momma." She repeated a final time.

"You're right, Meatloaf," I said, taking a shaky breath, "bad guys took Momma." I leaned forward to drive the point home to my fifteen-month-old, half-nephilim daughter. "But I'm gonna bring her home."

Smiling, Lib nodded again at me. "Home," she agreed, patting her chest. "Home. Libby."

"Home to Libby," I said, kissing her forehead and setting her down. Sammy and Cas stared at me, flabbergasted. I rubbed my face with both of my hands, not ready to look at them yet. I knew their question was the same as mine: how long has she been able to do that?

I glanced at my brother, shaking my head. "I don't know. I didn't know she could do that."

Castiel knelt down and smiled lightly at my daughter. "Liberty, can I see what you showed Daddy?"

Libby glanced up at me and I nodded encouraging her to show Cas. Maybe he could pick up something about the demons that took Grace and Serra that I didn't know to look for. He sat on the floor in front of her and she climbed into his lap, looking older than she was. Libby touched his face, still looking at me, and Cas closed his eyes as he watched the memories she pushed towards him. Seconds passed in silence and Sammy exchanged a look with me and I shook my head in response. This was crazy.

Letting go of Cas' face, Libby smiled at him and hugged him. "Cas," she said, "Cas. Momma."

"I don't understand, tiny Winchester," he said, a perplexed look taking over his face.

"She's saying that you're gonna help us find Grace," I said, translating her simple speak. _She's only fifteen-months-old, for fuck's sake,_ I thought, bending to lift Lib out of his lap.

"I realize that she is young," Cas said, answering my thought, "but now that we know she has abilities similar to Grace, we need to realize that your unborn child will probably have the same abilities."

"Yeah, probably," I said, making a face. "What does that have to do with anything?" Standing, Castiel reached towards Lib and took her hand. Moving my sleeve farther up, Cas placed Lib's tiny hand on my arm, covering The Mark of Cain. Both of us gasped as she made contact, like cold water had been thrown on us. Instantly, I was calmer, but Libby started to cry, pulling her hand away from my arm like it burned. "Stop, Cas, let her go," I said, turning her away from him, concerned that The Mark had hurt her.

"That's an interesting reaction," Cas said, unconcerned.

"Interesting?" Sam said, finally stepping forward. "She was in pain, Cas." Libby sniffled, rubbing her hands together. "What was that supposed to do?"

"I wanted to know if she reacted the same way as Grace does when touching The Mark."

Sammy glanced at me, confused. "And what way is that?"

"She gains power," I said quietly. "It boosts her up. Heals her, sometimes." I wiped a tear off of Lib's face and kissed her forehead. "I don't really know what happened to Lib, though. It calmed me down."

Castiel approached her slowly, but she shied away from him, hiding her hands. "It must have hurt her in some way," he said quietly. "I apologize, Liberty. I won't do it again." Cas glanced up at me and raised his eyebrows slightly, "She must have too much of you in her. Perhaps The Mark reproduces as well?"

"I hope not," I said, making a mental note to keep an eye on Lib's arms as she got older. "Go back to the baby…walk us through what you're thinking about what your theory was before Lib's reaction."

"If Liberty is showing signs of having abilities similar to Grace, I was expecting her to be able to take power from you, but I didn't consider that she is also half you, so the powers would conflict." Cas paused for a moment, considering the possibilities. "Although, this might mean that Grace can draw power from within. Perhaps the fetus carries your abilities as well."

Sam and I glanced at each other again, raising our eyebrows at each other. If that was the case, I wouldn't have to worry about Grace breaking down and losing the abilities that she had gained from touching The Mark habitually over the last three years or so. "Do you think it will hurt the baby, doing that?"

Cas shook his head. "That baby is also half her. It will have angel blood as well."

"Self-healing?" Sam asked.

"In theory," Cas replied quietly. "But not much has been working out in our favor."

I grit my teeth and put Lib down. "Ain't that the truth." I rubbed my hands together and walked back to the dining room table. "Alright, boys. We've got work to do."

…..

The demons that surrounded Grace as they unshackled her wrists were ready, knives drawn and waiting, as Dekar unlocked the last of her chains. She collapsed immediately on the ground, exhausted from lack of food and water over the past twenty-four hours. "If you plan on torturing me," Grace said, her voice hoarse from the dryness of the air, "then you'd better give me some water so I'll live long enough to enjoy it." One of the demons stepped forward, putting a bucket with a ladle in front of her. Gently, she pulled herself towards the bucket and took a long draw from the ladle. "My sister needs water, too. And unless you want her _really_ pissed off, I'd feed her, too."

Turning to the other demons, Dekar nodded once. Two of them disappeared into the tunnel, towards Serra's cell. "It's about fucking time," Grace hear her say as they opened her cell door and place the second bucket of water inside and throwing a bag of fried food down next to her.

Doing the same in her cell, she glanced at the greasy, brown paper sack at her feet. "What, you've got drive-thru down here?"

"Count your lucky stars," Dekar smiled, sly. "We've got boys on rotation topside every six hours. They'll bring you enough so you don't starve." He gestured to the bag. "Eat up, Gracie-poo. Your shift on the rack starts in ten minutes."

"I can't wait," Grace said, taking another long drink from the bucket.

The demons clustered at the entrance to the cell and dragged the doors shut with a clank. As they walked away, Grace lay on the dirt of her cell, taking long, steady breaths, doing her best to stay calm.

"Gracie?" Serra's voice echoed down the hall, "you okay?"

Rolling to her side, she retched once, throwing up the water that she just ingested. "I'll be fine," she answered, gasping for air and coughing. "I just need to get passed the morning. Maybe then I'll be able to keep some water down."

"I wish there was a way for you to toss me your food," Serra said through a mouthful. "The chicken is good."

Grace closed her eyes and smiled at her sister. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's just gonna go to waste sitting next to me."

"Teleport it over here, will you?"

Grace sat up, slowly and took a few calming breaths. The nausea had passed and the pain in her wrists was gone. Inspecting her arms, she saw none of the bruises that had been there only moments before and the pain in her head and neck was gone. Shaking her head in awe, she stood, slowly, and inspected the rest of her body. "Incredible," she said, mainly to herself.

"What is?" Serra said, taking another bite.

"I've never been able to regenerate this fast," Grace explained. "I'm completely healed already."  
"Bitch," she mumbled back to Grace, "I've got a shoulder and a head wound waiting for you."

Ignoring her, Grace turned back to her own body. Hope renewed, she began inspecting the perimeter of her cell, walking along the edge of the walls and the cell door. She pulled on the bars, wondering how much she would destroy if she used her powers to push the wall out. _That can be a back-up plan,_ she thought, _for now, patience._

Still eating, Serra continued to speak, "What do you think they're planning to do?" she asked.

"Torture us," Grace replied blandly.

"Awesome," Serra said, nodding as she took another bite. "For how long?"

"Well, the phrase 'Eternal Damnation' won't work for us. We're mortals."

Serra shrugged at this, eating a fry and licking her fingers. "Well, at least there's an end in sight."

"Way to stay positive," Grace said, sarcastic. "I have a few ideas, but I'm not sure how I can pull it off with you still in the cage. I need a way for both of us to be out at the same time."

"Even if we manage that, we don't have any idea how to get out of here," Serra said. "I don't know where we are, do you?"

"We're in Hell, Serra."

There was a long pause from her sister as she froze, processing this information. "Literal or figurative?"

"Literal. Literal Hell, Lucky. I killed Crowley. I think these fools are his band of merry men, finally getting revenge on me. Us." Grace took a deep breath. "When they took me, we went through a gateway I think. I know we were at Sutton."

"Sutton?" Serra asked, "Cemetery?"

Nodding Grace kicked at the bars of her cell. "Yeah, you didn't go the same way?"

"Nah," she replied. "Last thing I remember was a corn field about a half hour away from Lawrence. I almost lost them through the corn."

"You drove through a corn field?"

"Don't hate." Crumbling the paper bag up, Serra tossed it to the corner of her cell. "Alright. I'm fed and watered. Let's kick some fucking demon ass."

"One thing at a time, kiddo," Grace said, hearing the locks being opened at the end of the tunnel, meaning demons were coming for her. "I think we may have to go through the torture a few days before we get their guard down."

Serra rolled her eyes. "I hate being tortured."

"Just deal with it for a bit," Grace said, shaking her hands and jumping a few times. She rolled her head back and forth, preparing herself for the pain that would be coming. "We've dealt with worse."

"Worse than being tortured by demons?" Serra responded, unknowingly doing the same warm-up routine as Grace was doing, three cells down. She rolled her head from side to side, saying, "Alright, but what's the long term plan?"

"Kill demons. Escape."

"Right." Serra leaned on the cell bars, still fighting the throb, pulsating through her head. "Breathe deep, big sister."

"Yep. Here we go." The group of demons came to gather Grace. They held their guns and blades out to her, gesturing to get against the wall. There were four, all completely unfamiliar faces. A calm fell over Grace, adrenaline pumping through her veins. Her senses were heightened; she could even hear her sister's heartbeat from thirty feet away.

The tallest man moved forward after opening her cell. "Against the wall, arms out," he commanded. Grace complied, leaning against the wall and smiling.

"Where's Dekar?" she asked as he reached for her wrist. "Didn't want to join the party?"

He ignored her, his eyes flashing black as he brought her forward, pushing her arm behind her back. One of the smaller demons reached for her other wrist, doing the same as the other, pulling her arm behind her and ushering Grace forward. The two remaining held their knives at the ready.

"Move," they said in tandem, herding her towards the entrance of the cell. She smiled and walked slowly, kicking her bag of food out into the hall.

"Give that to my sister, will you?" she said, smiling sweetly at her captors. One of them made a face, shaking his head. "Unless you want it?"

The tallest demon kicked the bag of food towards Serra's cell. "If she can reach it, she can have it," he growled. "Now move."

"You hear that, Serra? Bonus food."

"Kick ass," she said, reaching through the bars; the bag of food just out of reach. "Oh, assholes. Come on." The demon that led Grace down the hall turned and smiled evilly at Serra, her arm and face just visible as he climbed the steps. "Kill 'em, Grace. He teased me."

"I'll take care of it," Grace said, turning her head back towards her sister. "Don't you worry."

The tunnel was long. Grace walked willingly, taking in as much as she could about her surroundings. It was one hundred sixty-two paces to the first intersection and they turned left. Fifty-six paces later, there was another intersection and this time, they turned right. The room was large, arched and had a table in the center with ropes and chains surrounding it and there was a cart littered with tools or varying pain levels. Grace made a face as they walked past; she figured as long as they stayed away from the tiny creature residing inside of her abdomen, she would be fine. She really didn't count on killing anyone today, but what planning ahead in dire situations such as this was always unwise. She would go with her gut, as usual.

Leading her to the table, she took a deep breath as she lay down. The demons were relaxing; their guard coming down ever so slightly. Since their walk began, Grace had been reading all of their thoughts, emotions, and tells. All of them hated her, but because she was walking so willingly, they were getting soft. _Maybe there would be a kill or two today._

From the table, one of the demons let go of her hand and turned away from her just long enough for her to concentrate, drawing the energy from the pit of her stomach and pushing it towards the palm of her hand as she had done many times before. As the demon turned back to the table, she made silent contact with his forehead and he lit with fire from within. He crumbled to ash on the floor and the light sent the other demons into a panic, backing away from her and bringing out their weapons. Grace froze; her hands up, watching the demons with a smile on her face.

"Woah, woah, boys. Take it easy," her voice was silky, coy. "I thought we were gonna have some fun?" They came at her with their knives, getting close enough for her to touch. Two approached at once and she reached for each of them at the same time, lighting the room in a warm glow from the fire inside. More ash ended up on the floor and slowly, she raised her hands back up tentatively at the remaining demon. "Careful there, buddy. Only four inches? You're gonna have to get pretty close to me to use that properly."

Just then, Dekar walked through the doorway, looking around; his eyes wide. "What is happening? I told you to tie her down."

The last demon stared at Grace in shock. "We tried, sir. She just—she just touched them."

"She's nephilim, you idiot," Dekar screamed. "She's half angel! Don't let her touch you!" He pulled out a pistol, aiming it at Grace's head. "Now, lay down, bitch, and I'm going to thank you properly for eliminating the morons of my group."

Grace did as she was told, a smile creeping across her face. She didn't feel any wearing effects from destroying the demons as she usually did, and it both surprised her and made her incredibly happy. The following hours, though, were not nearly as victorious. The pain from scalpels and salty blades brought her close to tears, but she refused to make a sound. Physical pain could be fixed. Grace would not break.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Sam

Standing in the middle of the kitchen, I watched Castiel turn and listen as if he could hear something we could not. "What is it, Cas?" A phone rang in the background and Jody turned to answer it as I concentrated on Castiel's reaction. "Cas?"

He continued to ignore me, still listening with every fiber of his being. I glanced at Dean, who had noticed the angel frozen in the kitchen. He approached, standing right in front of Cas' face.

"Cas," Dean said, waving his hand in front of his face. "You gotta use some words, man. What's happening?"

Without moving, Castiel spoke, "I heard her," he said.

Dean's eyes went wide, "What? Grace? You heard Grace?"

Castiel nodded, still listening. We both continued to stare at him and we let him, staying silent. Finally, he seemed to come out of his trance and glanced at the both of us. "Just for the smallest moment…she…I believe she killed three demons."

The dimple in Dean's left cheek showed for a second or two as he allowed pride to surge through his body. "That's my girl," he said quietly.

"Dean," Jody said, "I'm on the phone with Olathe PD. They found Serra's truck."

I whipped around to Jody, listening intently. "Where is Olathe?"

"About a half an hour southeast of here. Said they found it in the middle of a corn field." Dean and I stared at each other, shaking our heads. Our girls knew how to put up a fight. Jody addressed me, then, asking, "You want them to tow it in?"

I nodded, "Yeah, but wait until we get there. I wanna see if she left anything behind."

Jody turned back to the phone, explaining the situation in the broadest way possible. "They'll probably beat your tow truck there anyway. They're some of the fastest highway patrol officers out there."

Chuckling at Jody's comments about our fake identities, Dean was already grabbing his keys off the table and throwing weapons and ammunition into a bag. I kissed Libby on the head as I bent down. "We'll be back, kiddo," I told her as she watched Dean.

Throwing me the bag, Dean walked to his daughter and bent down, eyelevel with her. "Liberty, I'm not going far. Remember, I've gotta look for Momma."

"Momma. Lucky."

"And Auntie Lucky, too." Dean hugged her tightly and kissed her face. "Auntie Jody is gonna keep you safe. I'll even bring fries home for you."

"Fwies!" That seemed to appease my niece and laughing to myself, despite the situation, I carried the bag to the door, waiting for Dean.

He stood, put a hand on Jody's shoulder and couldn't bring himself to say anything else. She nodded, knowing what he was thinking. "We'll be in the panic room," she said quietly. "Go find our girls."

We walked out of the door without another word, Cas in our wake as we headed towards the Impala.

The drive to the cornfield was silent, each of us immersed in our own thoughts. About twenty minutes in, Castiel took a breath to speak. "I have a theory," he said quietly.

Dean glanced to the back seat and gestured to the windshield as he drove. "By all means, man. Let's hear it."

"Hearing Grace's voice was only momentary. Just seconds, but it was enough to understand that she was fighting. There were four demons. She killed three of them very quickly," Cas explained, walking himself through his theory as well. "It's almost as if using her powers sends out a beacon. I feel like if she sends out a powerful enough beacon, we will be able to track her location." He shook his head. "Getting her to do that will be difficult, of course. I think I'll need help from other angels to walk her dreams."

"Dream walk?" I asked, "Like cast-a-spell dream walk? We've done that. Can't we do that to both of them?"

Cas shook his head. "Not in the traditional sense. Angels have the ability to visit human dreams when they please. Mortals will not be able to penetrate the protective enchantments surrounding Hell. I believe that if another angel and I pair together, we would be able, in theory, to walk into Grace's subconscious to give her instructions."

I turned around in my seat, facing Cas. "How soon can you do that?"

He shook his head again. "It will be difficult," he started. "The layers of enchantments are especially made to keep our heavenly hosts, obviously. We need to listen for Grace…maybe she'll show again, and when she does, we'll start to track her locations as best as we can. In order to dream walk, we'll need to know her general location. If we can get in, we'll be able to tell her to use the demons as a beacon so we can narrow down where to rescue them from."

"Look," Dean said, "I'm barely listening to you. You've got to calm down the angel-speak and give it to me in shorter sentences."

Cas pressed his lips together. "Lucia and I will dream walk Grace, give her instructions and after she kills a bunch of demons all at once, or uses her cosmic energy in a way we can see, we'll be able to pinpoint where they are."

I shook my head at the look on my brother's face. "See?" he said, "was that so hard?"

Shaking his head, Cas rolled his eyes at me. "It will take some effort in order to make it through the barriers of hell and her own mental protection. I will need patience from you and Lucia's help."

"Another angel won't work?" I asked, "Can't we get anyone?"

"Lucia was a part of Grace's conception. She will have the strongest connection to her," Castiel responded immediately. "I've talked with her a few times since New Orleans. She will be cooperative."

…..

Struggling to open her eyes, Grace rolled to the side and pushed herself up to a sitting position, leaning on the cell wall and gasping as the pain hit her. It had been four days of this: being dragged to a standing position, then walked down to the torture room and without being asked any questions and having no demands made of her, she was ripped open and pulled apart a little at a time.

It was getting harder to heal herself each day. Without Dean's Mark of Cain, she wasn't getting the energy source that she was accustomed to and it was draining, attempting to put herself back together. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the most painful wounds first; the cut deep across her chest was still pouring blood, so that was first. Slowly, she was able to close it up, ebbing the bleeding and ceasing the pain. Next, the flesh that was missing on her upper arm was repaired, the new skin taught against the muscle patterns just under the surface.

She turned her attention to the child growing inside of her. Towards the end of her pregnancy with Liberty, Castiel had taught Grace how to check on her developing baby's heartbeat. Listening carefully, Grace could hear the flutter of the child within and she breathed a small sigh of relief. Making contact with the baby seemed to give her a renewed sense of energy and hope, immediately feeling better. She felt less pain, less anxiety, and more strength.

Taking a deep breath, she looked down at the open wounds on her arms. The pain was gone and when she flipped her hands to glance down at her ravaged skin, she was shocked to find the wounds had healed.

"What in the hell?" she mumbled, completely bewildered.

Serra's voice floated down the hall, a little loopy from this afternoon's session on the rack. "What's happening? Are we killing the demons now?"

Shaking her head and ignoring her sister's comments, Grace stood and evaluated the rest of her body. "Holy shit, Serra," she said, "I can heal myself without Dean."

Obviously sobering from Grace's comment, Serra rolled towards the bars of her cell. "What?"

"My wounds," Grace whispered, "I healed my wounds."

"How?"

Grace shook her head. "I have no idea." Running over the last few minutes in her head, Grace was still bewildered. Never before had she been able to heal herself with such ease over so many wounds. They had been deep, too. She should feel exhaustion, but there was only adrenaline coursing through her body. She had healed the cut that ran along her chest and the skin on her shoulder, but that would have been the limit to what she should have been able to do without resting a full night. "The baby," she whispered, coming to the realization that she had a piece of Dean with her at all times, now. "Oh my God."

"I can't hear you," Serra said, sounding annoyed.

Unwilling to say it much louder for fear that the demons would hear her and that they would know she was pregnant, she leaned closer to the cell bars. "The baby," she said, putting her face as close as she could without touching the rusty, muddy cell door, "I think the baby is helping me heal."

"Holy shit," Serra's voice rolled quietly down the tunnel, "why?"

Grace was silent momentarily, mulling it over as she leaned against the bars. "It's gotta be The Mark," she finally said, "there must be enough of it in the baby to regenerate me and my abilities."

Serra rolled again, trying to find a place on her body to put pressure, considering everything was bleeding or sore. "Starting to wish that Lucia had stuck around to knock mom up with me, too," she said, grunting in pain as she adjusted. "This really blows."

Grace felt for her sister, hearing how much pain she was in and was infuriated with the demons that held them captive. Four days was long enough. It was time to fight back a bit. She turned, facing the tunnel again, whispering quickly. "Lucky, food's coming soon, right?"

There was a moment's hesitation from Serra while Grace listened intently. "Can we kill them when they come?"

"It's kinda going against the whole 'don't bit the hand that feeds you,' thing," Grace said, smiling slightly, "but I think it's time to give them a little run for their money." She paused, still looking down at her freshly healed hands. "I keep having these dreams."

"About?"

"Cas and Lucia," Grace answered, stretching out her arms and her neck in preparation of attack. "They keep telling me that my abilities are what they can hear, so I need to pump it up a notch."

Serra answered from her position lying on the muddy ground. "I don't get it."

"They said that every time I do something angelic, Cas and Lucia can tap into my location. Like a beacon."

"Huh," came Serra's reply. "Do you think they're dream dreams? Or telling-you-something-dreams?"

Grace shook her head, pacing around the cell. "I don't know, but it's worth a shot. I mean, I'm sick of being tortured, aren't you?"

"Sister, we're already established that I hate being tortured. So, let's get gone," Serra said, attempting to sit up as they heard the tunnel door squeak open. "Room service," she said, smiling.

Turning to face her cell bars, Grace took a few deep breaths. She could hear her sister's thoughts refocus and the edge came back to her attitude. With purpose, Serendipity could do anything. Grace knew that her sister's skills outmatched her own, but paired with her abilities, they were an unstoppable team. Adrenaline coursed through Grace's blood, readying herself for the fight. Serra was already enjoying herself, wiggling her fingers and waiting for her sister's lead.

Listening to the demon's thoughts, Grace knew he had no knowledge about the oncoming attack. He was calm, alone, and unarmed. _They've let their guard down,_ Grace thought as he approached her cell. _Four days and they've gone to shit._

The food delivery demon walked to the front of her cell and Grace threw her arm out of the bars so fast that he didn't realized what had happened until he was slammed against the cell. She held him still only long enough to get the keys off of the ring that hung from his belt. Though he was unconscious, Grace had little mercy; she held his shirt to support his weight, passed out against the iron bars, and with her other hand, she held her palm to his forehead and he lit the tunnel as he turned to ash.

"Did you save the food?" Serra's voice carried lightly down the tunnel as Grace unlocked her cell. "I could really use some grub."

As she pushed the cell bars open, Grace picked up the greasy bags of take-out that had fallen to the ground when she grabbed the demon. Unlocking the bars to her sister's cage, she tossed a bag to her and they ate quickly as they trotted down the tunnel towards the entrance.

Shoving the remaining food into her mouth, Serra wiped her hands on her filthy, bloody scrubs and nodded at Grace. "Ready."

She pushed the door open slowly with some effort; it was incredibly heavy. The torture tunnel was well lit, and glancing back at Serra, she nodded. "Empty," she said quietly.

Staying behind Grace, Serendipity watched behind them as they traveled slowly up the tunnel. _Is it weird that there's no one here?_ She thought towards Grace as they padded silently towards the next sealed door.

Grace nodded to Serra's thought, unwilling to allow her voice to carry. They approached the door and Grace pointed towards it. She held up two fingers, gesturing to the wall behind the door. _Behind or above?_ Came Serra's question through Grace's mind.

Reaching behind her, Grace touched her sister's hand, _dealer's choice,_ she thought, smiling.

Like a jungle cat, Serra climbed the wall, smiling, using rocks and old hinges as footholds. She perched behind the door, slightly above the doorframe and nodded at Grace. She pulled the door open quickly, knowing there were two demons on the other side of it. Silently, like lightning, Grace reached for the blade shoved into the demon's belt. As she held out her palm to smite the demon, she tossed the blade to Serra as she released her footholds and fell to the demon's shoulders, sinking the blade deep into the neck of her would-be attacker. He lit from the inside as well, the fire from within lit the corridor only momentarily and both sisters exchanged glances. "A Demon Blade? How exciting! I've never had my own!" Serra said, standing up to her full height and smiling. She glanced towards where she had been perched on the wall. She grinned, blood caked on the side of her mouth from her torture session from the previous day, "I've always wanted to do that."

Grace turned and smiled back at her sister. The light played on her injuries and Grace's excitement ebbed. "Oh, Jesus, Serra. You look awful."

"You're so kind," Serra said cynical.

Closing her eyes, Grace reached out to her sister's forehead. She took a deep breath and pushed her healing powers towards her. Serra watched her skin regenerate over her cuts and scrapes, the bleeding stopped, and immediately, she felt better. Glancing up at Grace, Serra grinned. "That's such a neat trick."

The continued through the hall where they had been brought so many times before to be tortured and made their way through the door at the end of the room. Slowly, Serra pushed it open, letting Grace go through the door first. This was the edge of their familiar area in the dungeons. Unsure of where to go next, Grace tiptoed through the next tunnel. It was almost pitch black, so she made her way slowly, keeping her back against the wall.

She turned to Serra, reaching out for her hand to communicate. _I can hear a bunch of them; ten or twelve in there. They might be sleeping because they're all relaxed._

Serra replied telepathically. _Fast and furious?_

Grace nodded and gestured. _One, two…_

 _Three._ Serra thought as she and Grace flew through the doorway; attacking as they never had before. Grace made it through four demons before they were alert enough to fight back. Serra jumped from demon to demon, shoving the newly acquired blade through three demons before they turned on her. One grabbed her arm, brought out his blade and ripped it through her scrubs across her belly. She rolled away from him, blood seeping through the shirt she wore and cried out softly. Grace whipped around, throwing her own demon from her shoulders, forcing him against a wall as she jumped towards the younger sister. She was at Serra's side in seconds, holding her head and pushing the healing abilities at her once more. Up on her feet again before the remaining demons realized what had happened, the girls stood back to back in the center of the room, ready to take on the next series of enemies.

They seemed unwilling to continue the fight; backing away slowly and lowering their heads. A high-pitched sound screamed through Grace's mind, her ears on fire because of it. Her impulse was to fall to her knees, but she refused, staying on her feet long enough for Serra to catch on to her being in pain.

"Grace, what? What's happening?"

Unable to respond, Grace put her hands over her ears and shut her eyes. Serra stood protectively in front of her sister, blade out, ready to fight. The door towards the back of the circular room opened and out walked Dekar, slow-clapping with irony.

"Well done, ladies. I must say, I'm impressed," he purred, walking out into the middle of the room. "Boys," he said, addressing the remaining demons in the room, "I allowed this to happen for as long as it did to prove a point: do _not_ let your guard down around the Winchesters, male or female. They. Will. Slaughter. You." Dekar glanced around the room, looking at his men each in turn. "Pathetic. Thirteen demons in this room and you've got five left." He turned back towards the girls, "Like I said, impressive."

Grace was finally standing upright again, still wary of the sound that made her hurt from the inside. "We're full of surprises," she said, taking the position in front of Serra. "Why are you holding us? What's the point? Just kill us or let us go."

Dekar shook his head. "Nah, I'm enjoying myself immensely. Plus, your dear husband is falling back into the throws of The Mark of Cain more quickly that even I had anticipated. He's making fantastic progress."

Furrowing her eyebrows, Grace stared at Dekar. "That's what this is about?" Grace ignored Serra's thoughts about being confused and pushed forward with Dekar. "I thought you wanted revenge for Crowley."

"That's how this started," he said, smiling slyly, "but it's turned into so much more than revenge. Removing you from Dean? That was the best accident that ever happened. He'll be a demon in no time and then he can work for me."

There was a flutter of amusement through the five demons that were left surrounding the girls. Serra was outraged and wanted nothing more than to attack again. Grace motioned with her hand behind her back. "What was that noise?" she asked, feeling like she would get the information she wanted out of Dekar before he threw them back onto the rack.

"A little trick I picked up from Abaddon," he said, smiling. "I miss her. She had a lot of tricks as a Knight of Hell. You little freaks of nature tick just like an angel. Thinking of the banishment spells while being decorated in angel sigils? You can get one on their ass in no time."

Grace closed her eyes, understanding. "So that's how you're gonna play, now? Spells and drawings?"

Dekar shrugged. "You keep regenerating. It's only fair."

He gestured towards the girls and stepped back. The demons pulled Serra away from Grace, forcing her to drop the blade she carried and knocking her out before attempting to move her. Grace set her jaw and watched as her sister was dragged back towards the dungeons. She stared back at Dekar. "This isn't over."

"I know it's not. I look forward to more."


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Dean

Four days had passed since I had seen my wife. Lib was suffering too; crying at the drop of a hat, her face flushed and irritated, snot dripping everywhere. I went through the motions of those days, trying my best not to snap at anyone. The Mark was returning quickly and it was terrifying to see the red scar creep its way back down my arm.

Sammy was on edge too. He watched me from the corner of his eye constantly, wondering what I would do next. I had already driven away in the Impala three times, wanting to get as far away as I could from my daughter, unwilling to let her see me in a full blown fucking rage.

We were no closer to finding Grace or Serra. Cas hadn't been able to get a bead on Grace since the first day and it seemed like she was slipping away. At night while I watched Lib sleep, all I could think about was the anger and hatred I had towards the demons responsible, and how badly I wanted to go down there, guns blazing, and take them all out.

Cas had been gone since the cornfield, I assume, to talk to Lucia. I had no idea if they had tried dream-walking yet, but there was no way I could sit though another night of nothing. I needed to go out and find myself a demon to torture.

Heading towards the door, I grabbed my keys and glanced at Lib sleeping on the pile of pillows she had created earlier that day. "Where are you going?" came Sammy's voice quietly.

I turned back to him and whispered, "I gotta go do _something_ Sam. I can't just stay here, knowing the girls are being tortured." I gestured to Liberty, "She can't be without Grace much longer either. We're both miserable."

"What about me, Dean? Serra's missing too," he whispered back at me, coming at me with his eyebrows furrowed under that stupid mop of hair.

"What about you, Sam? Goddammit, I get it. We're both suffering, but Lib is my main concern right now. She hasn't seen her mother in four fucking days."

Sam took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. "The Mark is getting to you, Dean. I know it is. Without Grace twenty-four-seven, you're starting to fall into your old habits of being pissed off for every little thing." He pointed at Liberty again. "You need to suck it up and handle it. She needs you."

There was a long period of silence as I tried to sort through my rage and answer Sam calmly. Finally, I shook my head and opened my mouth. "I don't know how to do this without Grace," I said, finally admitting the root of the problem. "I don't know how to be domestic. I don't know how to join fucking PTA without my _wife."_

Sammy stared at me like I was an abused dog. I looked away from him, completely uncomfortable with his pity. We had been here before, twice at least. On the brink of my weak-fucking-breakdown because Grace was in mortal peril again. We had been through so much in the last three years, I had made the mistake of thinking we were safe. I had convinced myself that we had nothing to worry about except property taxes. Who was I kidding? I was married to a nephilim, she had killed the King of Hell…at one point, my own brother had been possessed by Lucifer himself. We were not a normal family. I had no idea why I ever thought we would be safe.

"Stop, Sam," I said, my voice breaking once. "Don't look at me like you feel sorry for me. Let's go find some fucking demons and make them talk."

Sam nodded. "That's what I have been waiting for you to say." He grabbed his flannel and threw it on over the black shirt he wore and followed me out onto the porch where Jody was on the phone with someone else she knew from her Sheriff's office. We paused and waited for her to look up at us and then I gestured towards the car over my shoulder. "We're gonna go do some digging. If Cas shows up, tell him to call us."

Jody nodded and mouthed, "Be careful, boys."

I tried to smile, but I'm sure I just looked like I was in pain and we headed down the steps and climbed into the Impala. Sam barely had the door shut and I was peeling rubber down the road.

Castiel and Lucia listened intently for Grace's thoughts and movements during their fight with the demons. They remained motionless and stared off into nothing for the full twenty-two minutes that the girls were out of their cells. After Dekar knocked Grace out and had her carried her back to her cell, Lucia glanced at Castiel and smiled. "The dream walking is working," Lucia said quietly to Castiel. "I could hear her very well."

"As could I," Castiel replied, smiling lightly. "There's more work to be done."

Lucia agreed and turned back to Casitel, taking his hands once again as they walked into Grace's subconscious together.

…..

Lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling of her cell, Grace breathed as deeply as she could, staying calm and trying to think of a new plan. She had honestly lost track of how many weeks they had been there…it could be months now, for all she knew. She knew that Cas and Lucia walked her dreams each night telling her to use her abilities whenever she could, which was difficult now that Dekar controlled most of her abilities by the banishment spells and sigils that decorated his body. The angels were still attempting to narrow down their location in hell, but Grace knew that it would be difficult.

The torture hadn't been as bad; considering she had learned how to use the energy she received from the infant she carried to regenerate each night, which was convenient. She had been separated from Serra since the escape attempt they had tried when the demon brought them their food and the only comfort was that Serra's thoughts still made their way to Grace's mind, so she found solace in the monologue that Serra continued.

 _These motherfuckers think they can hold us. These motherfuckers can't hold us. Holy shit, everything hurts. I wonder where they've got Grace. If I was a fucking nephilim, I'd be able to sit here and talk to her instead of just talking to myself like a fucking crazy person._

Serra's internal voice suddenly went silent and Grace sat up quickly and froze, feeling for her sister in any way that she could. _Oh, God,_ came her voice, finally, allowing Grace to take a sigh of relief. Grace tried to extend her abilities to find out what Serra was ailing from most.

"Come on, Lucky. Tell me what's wrong," she whispered. She waited silently for her sister to begin thinking to herself again.

Moments passed slowly as Grace stared at the muddy bricks that made up her cell wall. "Come on, Serra," she finally said aloud, "what's the problem?"

 _Great. I'm muddy, bloody, and wounded from being tortured, and now I'm gonna start puking, too?_

"Puking?" Grace repeated, hearing her sister, "Why are you puking?"

Serra was on her hands and knees in the middle of her cell, far from Grace. They had yelled for each other for a time after they were separated, hoping that they would still be in shouting distance, but there was no such luck. Serra was filthy from head to toe, her hair wrapped into a tight, dirty bun at the top of her head. Her scrubs, that used to be teal, now were stained with blood, mud, and, most recently; vomit.

"What the fuck?" she gasped, spitting out the bad taste in her mouth, "It's not enough that I'm bleeding from everywhere? I have to puke too?" She retched again, coughing and wiping her mouth and moving away from the pile on the floor.

Exhausted and attempting to hold it together, Serra was on her last legs. Being tortured was awful and they were relentless, although lately, seemed to have lost interest in torturing every day, mostly content for the girls to be locked away in their cells. It was easier to torture Grace more often because she had the ability to regenerate and ran a smaller risk of actually killing her. Serra was a bit more fragile, her cuts and scrapes and bruises took much longer to heal naturally. But this…throwing up was not on the list of acceptable things to do in the mud.

Shaky and thirsty, Serra stood and leaned against the wall of her cell. "Hey!" she called to the demon down the hall, "I need some water, man."

"No water yet," came the demon's stoic reply.

Serra sighed and gestured to the pile of vomit on the ground near the entrance of her cell. "Really? No clean up on aisle seven, here?"

"What?" he asked, coming closer. "Shit. What the hell?"

Serra shook her head, "You got me, asshat. Water and a bit of clean up or you're gonna be smelling that right along with me."

The demon rolled his eyes and walked away, back towards the entrance of the tunnel. He disappeared through the door and Serra turned back to her cell, running through the last few days in her head. She hadn't eaten anything different than she had been over the last few…weeks? Months? How long had they been there? It was always the same food. She shook her head, at a loss. Maybe her body was just over being tortured.

The tunnel door opened again, three demons came through this time, obviously ready to take her back to the rack. "What, are you kidding me?"

"Let's go," he said, "you can walk or I can drag you."

Serra rolled her eyes, but powerless, she went willingly. As they walked back down the hall to the torture rack, she glanced back down the tunnel where she assumed that they were still holding her sister.

Hours, later, they dumped her back into her cell, bleeding and nauseated. Serra pulled herself to the corner of the cell, collapsed, and couldn't help but plead with her sister silently.

 _Grace, I don't know if you can even hear me, but this isn't working anymore. We've gotta get out of here. I'm bleeding pretty bad…I'm pretty sure I've got a fever from the infection I know I'm trying to shake off and I'm tired. I don't know if I can wait for Sam and Dean and Cas to get us out of here. I think we need to try again._ Tears leaked from her eyes, finally breaking, _I don't want to live out my days here, Gracie. I want to go home, or die trying._

From her cell, Grace's tears fell to her cheeks as she listened to her sister silently beg mercy. She sounded on the edge of cracking. Standing and facing the bars to her cell, she nodded to herself. Serra was right. Who knows how much longer either one of them would last.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Sam

Watching Dean torture a demon had always been difficult, but here we were, both in the throws of a rage that neither had ever seen. Serra and Grace had been missing for five weeks and desperation was rampant through both of our minds.

"Where! Tell me _where,"_ Dean shouted as he swiped the salty blade across the demon's face, sending smoke into the air and more cries from the man strapped to the chair in our dungeon.

"I don't know!" the demon replied, shaking the pain out of his face. "I haven't ever even seen them! Dekar is in charge right now! He's taken over since Crowley!"

"Who the fuck is Dekar?" Dean screamed at him, cutting the man's face again, throwing holy water on him for good measure, "Where is he keeping my wife?"

The demon shook his head again, fearing Dean in his rage. The Mark of Cain glowed bright red against Dean's arm and I winced as my brother came to the conclusion that this demon was no longer useful to him. He dug the angel blade deep into the man's chest and left it there, striding away from the flickering of the demon's death.

I stepped back from him, watching him pace around the room. As he passed the table where we kept the tools we needed for torture and questioning, Dean grabbed the edge of the table with both hands and flipped it over, tools flying in all directions and the table rattling the entire room as it came to rest on the floor.

Dean stared at me, challenging, waiting for me to scold him for flipping the table. Honestly, if he hadn't, I probably would have. This was the most frustrated I had ever been…searching for demons that we had never heard of and looking for dungeons that we didn't know even existed…it was madness.

Castiel and Lucia had been silent for days now. The last time Cas had checked in, he had narrowed down the possibility of the girls' location, but he still couldn't be certain until Grace used her abilities for more than just killing demons. The flash that she showed Cas and Lucia was never enough to get a lock on her. She needed to be more destructive, apparently. I just didn't know if it was in my sister-in-law's nature to be that angry. Glancing back towards my brother, I raised my eyebrows. Maybe if Dean was this angry, Grace would eventually follow suit.

"Mother _fucker!_ " Dean shouted, bringing me out of my thoughts. "Why doesn't anyone know anything?"

I shook my head, completely at a loss. The lack of leadership from hell was making it extremely difficult to find anyone worth torturing for information. Even worse, this was the second time we had heard the name "Dekar" and still, we were no closer to finding out whom he was or where he was keeping the girls. Or, for that matter, even knowing if he was the one in charge at all.

I stared at my brother, seeing that the bags under his eyes were back, his face was thinner, more drawn, and he was constantly near killing someone. The last few nights, he had forced Jody to sleep in the panic room with Liberty, unsure of what he was capable of. Jody had finally relented, knowing that he was only trying to keep Lib safe.

"That name Dekar again," I started, speaking quietly, knowing it was safest for me to be gentle with Dean. "It keeps cropping up."

He turned towards me, rage in his eyes, and he nodded. "Yeah. Sounds like we have someone else to go after."

Turning to the overturned table on the ground, I bent to pick up my demon blade and handed Dean his buck knife and flask of holy water. "Maybe we can get—"

"Get what, Sam?" Dean said, wheeling on me. "Get another demon with another set of names? We haven't got shit, and we haven't had shit for five weeks. I've got a daughter that's afraid of me and a pregnant wife I haven't seen in five weeks, with nothing to go on." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "We can't get shit, Sam. I don't know what to do."

I stared at Dean, knowing exactly how he felt. I couldn't think of anything to say, so I kept my mouth closed, waiting for him to continue. There was more behind his eyes, I knew it.

He turned and walked to the dead demon, still strapped to the chair in the middle of the Devil's trap. He pulled the angel blade out of his chest and wiped it on the demon's shirt. Finally, he looked me in the eye and took a ragged breath. I stared, waiting, for him to continue. "My eyes flashed black today, Sammy."

"What?"

"In the bathroom upstairs. I was washing my face and I glanced into the mirror to see exactly how shitty I looked and there it was, man. I blinked and they were gone."

I watched my brother, taking a slow breath. We were running out of time.

…..

"Serra, come on, kiddo. Say something," Grace was whispering as she paced around the cell she remained locked in. It had been over two hours since she had heard her sister plead with her telepathically. If she had passed out, two hours was enough for Grace; naptime was over and she needed to check in.

On the floor of her cell, Serra lay on the dirt, passed out and still bleeding. Consciousness was close…she opened her eyes slowly and blinked, trying to clear the blur. The pain was incomparable to anything Serra had ever experienced. There was a pulsing radiating throughout her head and a ringing in her ears from being hit one too many times. The blood that flowed was from the deep wound that needed stitches across her chest. It was impossible to move and, for the first time, Serra felt unable to continue.

 _Grace,_ she thought, _it's bad._

Walking to the edge of her cell, Grace listened to Serra communicate telepathically. Subconsciously, she reached down and pulled her shirt over the slowly emerging bump in her abdomen. She knew it wasn't enough for a demon to notice, but she knew the child inside of her was growing and that they were running out of time before they knew she was pregnant.

"What's bad, Serra. Tell me more," she said quietly. "Keep talking to me."

 _I don't want to die here on the dirt, Gracie. We're too pretty to die in the mud._

"Why are you talking about dying, Serra. We're not going to die here."

 _Grace…_ Serra's thoughts were getting unstable and weaker. There was something wrong. _There's a lot of blood coming out of me._

"Serra!" Grace yelled, knowing very well that she wouldn't be able to hear her. She shook her head and cleared her mind.

 _I can't keep my eyes open,_ Serra thought, her eyes closing as blood pumped out of her chest and head. _Come and get me Gracie. Don't leave my body here._

Grace's eyes filled with tears as she realized that her sister was on the verge of death. "No," she said. "We're not dying here."

She listened again, but her sister's voice was silent. Grace took a step back away from the cell doors. She knew this would draw the kind of attention that she had been trying to avoid for the last five weeks, but Serendipity wasn't dying today. Grace closed her eyes and extended her hands. With wild adrenaline coursing through her body, she took a deep breath and pushed with all her might towards the cell doors. With a flash of light and an explosion that rocked the entirety of the tunnels, the dust settled and carefully, Grace stepped into rubble that used to be the hallway. She glanced around and realizing that she was still alone, she took off down the tunnel towards Serra.

Cas froze in his position in the kitchen of the Winchester house. The amount of power from Grace that just radiated through his mind was enough to tell where the girls were. Immediately, he pulled out his phone and dialed Dean's number.

Seeing Cas' number pop up on the screen, Dean answered on the first ring. "What, Cas?"

"I have her location. We need to move."

…..

"Serra?" Grace screamed down the tunnels as she ran, killing two demons as she passed them, "Serra!"

Reaching out with her abilities, she searched for her sister, knowing that she was bleeding out where she lay in her cell. Panic was searing through her as she ran, worried what she would do if she wasn't fast enough to get to Serendipity's side. "Serra!"

Trying to open her eyes, Serra could hear Grace's voice, faint in the distance. "I must be hallucinating," Serra mumbled, attempting to stay conscious. She knew that Grace was still in her cell, too far away to hear. "That can't be good."

There was a flutter of activity outside of her tunnel cell and Serra struggled to look out passed the bars. Everything was still blurry and unfocused, the darkness of tunnel vision threatened to creep in on her. There it was again, though; Grace's voice through the corridor as the demons clustered around her cell. "Serra!"

Momentarily, Serendipity wondered why she sounded so panicked and attempted to answer. "Grace? Gracie, it's okay."

"Serra!" came Grace's voice, louder and closer than before.

 _Maybe I'm not hallucinating?_ She thought, trying to roll towards the cell bars.

"Serra! Think something again! Where are you?"

"I'm here," Serra whispered, caving to unconsciousness again as the darkness took her.

Grace flew through the tunnels, getting closer to Serendipity little by little. She couldn't hear her anymore, but she knew she was close. "Serra!" Grace came to a split in the tunnels and hesitated; both of them ran the same direction, in a Y shape. "Serra! Answer me!"

Listening with all her might, Grace held her breath. "Serra?" From the end of the hall on the right, she could hear an assembly of demon thoughts, all clustered together. They were waiting for Grace to arrive at Serra's cell, knowing that she had broken out. No longer caring about what the demons did to her, she tore off down the tunnel, straight towards the demons at the end. It was the most powerful Grace ever felt, regardless of not being able to touch Dean's Mark in five weeks. Owning her abilities, she was ready for anything, and for the first time in her life, she felt indestructible.

"Serra!" she screamed once more as she headed down the dark corridor. There were six of them waiting for her at Serra's cell. Without slowing down, Grace cleared her mind and pushed the energy she carried towards the group of demons and flared her fingers as she imagined the entire tunnel collapsing. As soon as she pictured it, the worst happened, debris flying in all directions, destroying the hall and pushing demons out of the way, smiting three of them in midair. The other three came down on the rubble of the tunnel hard and Grace could hear their bodies snap on landing.

Grace's explosion had knocked the cell bars off of Serendipity's tiny room and as she climbed over the rock and steel, she could see her sister lying in the middle of the muddy floor, blood rushing from her chest and her head.

"Oh, shit, shit, shit," Grace was saying as she collapsed next to her, touching her neck and feeling for a pulse. It was there, but it was weak and Grace knew she didn't have a lot of time. She had never tried bringing someone back from the dead before, and honestly, didn't know if she had the ability to do it.

Touching her forehead with both of her palms, Grace closed her eyes and began to heal Serra's open wounds. There was so much damage, Grace had a hard time figuring out where to begin, so she started with the basics, closing up the gash on her scalp and knitting the wound across her chest back together.

As she worked, the small part of her brain that was allowing sound and thoughts from others into her own brain was on high alert, watching for other demons of if Dekar decided to show his hideous face. Repairing Serra was exhausting; Grace took another ragged breath and continued pulling bones back together and repairing muscle tissue in her legs and arms. As she closed up a wound on Serra's stomach, she hesitated, hearing something unfamiliar. Listening hard, thinking it was another demon, Grace paused and looked up through the dust and the rubble and waited for an enemy. No one came, so she went back to work.

Hearing it again, she pulled her hands away from Serra's body and watched her, waiting for a reaction from her sister. With one hand, she felt for the sound again, turning her abilities towards her sister's body, listening to the sound once more. "Oh my God, Serra. You're pregnant," Grace said, unable to contain her surprise.

Moving her face closer to her sister's body, Grace couldn't help but smile as she listened to her niece or nephew's heartbeat as she stitched her sister whole. She was still bruised and bloody, but the swelling and cuts were gone, bright pink new skin glowing in the dim light. Grace waited, sitting on her knees in the pool of muddy water and blood that surrounded them and was on edge, waiting for her sister to wake.

"Come on, kiddo. We've got a fight coming," Grace was saying, staring at the destruction that filled the tunnel outside of Serra's cell. "I can't do this alone."

Serra's heartbeat was stronger, but her eyes remained closed. Worry began to fill Grace's mind, wondering if she didn't do enough to heal her. She watched Serra's chest rise and fall as she began to take deeper breaths and slowly, Grace saw her lids flutter, trying to open.

"Lucky?" Grace pleaded. "Try not to take all day. I can hear them coming."

"Grace?" Serra said, confused as she tried to sit up. "What are you doing here?"

Making a face and shrugging, Grace tried to explain, "You were dying, and I'm not on board with that." Standing, she held out her hand for her sister to stand as well. "You need to get up and help me, though. There's about a hundred really pissed off demons trying to get themselves organized and I'm not really sure how we're gonna get out of it."

"Holy shit, Grace," was all Serra could say, rubbing her face. "If you healed me, why do I still feel like I'm gonna throw up?"

"Well," Grace said, "just know that our kids are gonna be about the same age," Grace said, looking around in the rubble for something to fight with.

Serra only stared at Grace, a look of confusion falling over her face. "What? What does Johnny and Lib have to do with anything?"

"You are about as quick as molasses in winter," Grace muttered, pulling rebar from the rocks that were piled around them.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Serra said, still inspecting her body and leaning over in case she was sick again. "You're not making any sense."

Grace walked to Serra's side, handing her a piece of rebar and patting her back. "We've been here five weeks, kiddo."

"And?"

"And? Are you kidding?" Grace laughed as she listened to the demons getting ready for the fight. "Five weeks and the only bleeding you've done is out of your head and chest. And maybe your arms and neck." She began pulling stones across the doorway she created in destroying the tunnel.

There was only silence from her little sister as she tried to piece together what Grace had explained. "No, I'm not," was all she said.

"You are. I heard it."

Serra was shaking her head, making a face. She still leaned over, attempting to take deep breaths and keep from throwing up. There was movement at the end of the tunnel as the demons finally decided to begin their assault. "No," she whispered as she was sick again, retching as Grace rubbed her back, trying to hurry her along. "I'm not pregnant. I can't be. I haven't even _seen_ Sam…"

"In five weeks. You're knocked up, little sister," Grace said, "Mazel Tov. I wish we could celebrate a bit more, but they're coming, Lucky. You need to get with it and process this later, because I can't take this many on by myself." Grace hesitated, smiling to herself slightly, "Since you're so surprised, I take it that Sam's boys are strong swimmers as well?"

Serra was still bent at the waist, trying not to hyperventilate. "Nope. I just managed to miss about five pills in two weeks before we were taken."

"And you expected not to get knocked up?" Grace laughed. "You two fuck like bunnies and you forgot about taking your pill?"

"I know, save the lecture. I'm paying for it, trust me." Serra stood carefully, taking a couple of deep breaths. She could hear the voices from the end of the tunnel; the demons were coming for them. "Alright, let's get this shit done. I'm not throwing up in the mud again. Fuck this."

Grace's smile spread across her face as her sister was finally ready to kick some demon ass. As she thought that, a familiar voice entered her mind, one that she hadn't been able to hear for the last five weeks. She breathed, "Dean."

"What?" Serra said, coming closer to her sister. "What did you say?"

"Dean. I can hear Dean."

"We're going home, Gracie," Serra said, grinning. "Is Sam with him?"

Listening, Grace fell silent again. Sorting through the unfamiliar voices she was also picking up was difficult, but she managed to do so. She nodded, hearing her brother-in-law, running along side of her husband. "Cas and Lucia too."

"Well, let's go welcome them to Hell," Serra said, moving to climb over the rubble that was scattered through her tunnel.

…..

Castiel stood in the middle of the tunnel and listened momentarily while the Winchesters brought up the rear. Lucia stood next to him, concentrating on Grace's voice. "She's here. She's with Serendipity."

Sammy ran up next to Cas and glanced at the angel. "Are they okay?"

"For the moment," Cas replied, not looking at Sam. "Grace broke out to save Serendipity's life. She was draining away." Dean hadn't spoken in the twenty minutes it had taken to drive to Sutton Cemetery. He was solely focused on getting to Grace and Castiel wanted nothing to do with standing in his way. Pointing down the tunnel system, Cas continued, "They're both down that way, closer to the end, now, that Grace has escaped from her cell."

The boys took off running, Dean holding his Colt at the ready and Sam followed closely, an angel blade in one hand and a revolver in the other. Lucia nodded once at Castiel and they took off running behind the Winchesters.

There was a group of demons stationed at the end of the first tunnel that they went through. Dean wasted no time barreling through them, disarming one with a push and grabbing the blade from his waistband. In one motion, he had almost decapitated two more. They landed in a pile behind him as he kept running. Sam followed closely, stabbing another demon as he attacked. He collapsed in a pile of fiery ash as he followed after his brother. Castiel and Lucia had to do very little, simply avoiding the trail of bodies the boys left behind.

"Take the right fork," Cas said, trotting behind Dean, wary about not meeting a demon for a few minutes. "Grace's cell was on this corridor. It's where I heard her make the most noise."

As they rounded the corner, Dean stopped, mid-step to stare at the destruction before him. He turned to Cas, his eyebrows raised. "Grace did this?"

Castiel nodded slightly, making a face. "This is the reason I was able to finally get her location. It was an impressive demonstration of her abilities."

Dean glanced behind him again and scoffed slightly, "Impressive demonstration?" He spun back to Castiel, "How did she do this?"

Shrugging his shoulders, completely at a loss, Cas tilted his head as he answered. "I'm not really sure, Dean. She has always been completely dependent on The Mark of Cain for the majority of her abilities. Without your contact, I had no idea the extent of her abilities. I never really expected to find her."

"You never really expected to find her?" Dean was uncomfortably close to Cas, using the demon's blade to gesture out towards the tunnel. "What, you were just leading me along, making me believe that we would find her eventually?" He took another step towards Cas, fury getting the best of him. Sam had an urge to step forward to separate them, but restrained. "She's carrying my kid, Cas. She's carrying my _fucking kid."_

Lucia stepped forward towards Dean and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Dean, he meant no offense. This place is a catacomb of tunnels and despair. You have to understand how difficult it was to discover where your wife and her sister were being held."

"I don't give a _fuck_ how hard it was. They're down here, by themselves, thinking we just left them." Dean turned back towards the rubble and began picking his way through. "We'll discuss your lack of faith about finding my wife later. We've got shit to do."

…..

Grace pulled Serra over the wall of boulders and helped her through the rebar as she found her footing. "Gracie, I gotta say," Serra said as she stepped into the darkness of the destroyed tunnel, "this is amazing, even for you."

Nodding, Grace glanced around, still listening for Dean. "I know," she said, "I wasn't entirely sure I would be able to, but when I heard you…" Fading away, she shrugged. "There was no other option."

Two demons joined them in the tunnel, holding blades, ready for a fight. Grace and Serra exchanged glances. Neither one really felt prepared for the fight…Serra had just been close to death and was still reeling from the news that she would be a mother. Grace had destroyed most of the two tunnels that held them captive and had just stitched her sister back together. Neither was in fighting shape, but there was a sense of renewed hope upon knowing the boys were there to get them.

The first demon stepped into the dim of the light from Serra's cell. He swiped at Grace, barely missing her as she swung with the rebar pole. He dodged as the second demon joined the fight. Serra jumped towards the first, swinging with the small bit of rebar she had been able to carry and dug it into the demon's shoulder. She wrapped her legs around his chest, pinning his arms to his sides as he bled. Grace rushed them and put a hand to his forehead. He laughed as her powers failed her for the first time. Leaving a scorched mark on the demon's forehead, she backed away, gasping, still trying to find her footing.

Still from her position wrapped around the demon, Serra pulled the rebar out of his shoulder and plunged it into his eye socket, getting a good scream from him as the second demon went after Grace. He tackled her and she rolled, taking him with her as they grappled on the muddy ground.

"Grace! Focus!" Serra yelled; trying to kill the demon she fought with while still keeping an eye on her sister. She knew Grace hadn't had the chance to rest properly in between healing her and fighting…she was weak and very quickly, this was becoming a dangerous situation.

Reaching for his forehead again, Grace refocused her energy on smiting the demon. "I want to go _home,"_ she growled as he lit from the inside and collapsed on top of her. She got up, ran to Serra and together they threw the second demon against the wall, rebar sticking out through his chest from the cell door.

Approaching the second demon, who was smiling out of spite, Grace reached for his forehead. "Where's my family?"

"Don't bother. They'll be dead soon anyway. Dekar went to meet them."

Grace closed her eyes and touched his forehead, ceasing the pain that he caused with his words and turned to Serra. "Let's go."

They limped down the hall, towards Grace's old cell. Coming to the end of the tunnel, Grace held up a hand and listened to the group of demons not forty yards away. "Take care of the angels," Dekar was saying, "but leave the Winchesters alive. I want to make sure that Dean knows what's at stake. Plus, I would hate for him to miss the death of his wife."

Grace glanced back at Serra and raised her eyebrows. The only exit that they knew of was down that passage and about twenty demons and their leader blocked their way. _There's no way we can fight our way through_ , came Serra's thoughts as she moved closer to Grace silently. _We're weak and there's too many._

Nodding in agreement, Grace backed up towards the darkness again. "There's gotta be a way around," she whispered to her sister. "These tunnels run everywhere."

"But where are Sam and Dean?"

Shaking her head, Grace was at a loss. "I know they're here, I just can't hear where."

The sound of voices had stopped and Grace turned to see one of the demons from the group standing at the end of the tunnel, smiling. "Hello, ladies."

"Shit."

Like a banshee, Serra was on him in seconds flat, screaming and plunging the demon blade into the monster's chest. Grace followed suit, grabbing the blade from his waistband and pulling the gun from his holster. She turned and fired four shots into the crowd rapidly, one after another, taking down four of the demons immediately. She tossed the gun to Serra, who, after grabbing it from midair, turned and fired five more shots, taking out four more demons. Grace dove into the crowd, flipping the blade in her hand to use more aggressively as she ran. As more demons hit the ground, she continued tossing fresh guns to Serra, who caught, fired, and dropped them in rapid succession.

Hearing the shots echo down the tunnel, Dean took off in a sprint, towards the gunfire, Sammy not far behind. Cas and Lucia followed, exchanging a look, knowing how dangerous the fight was about to become.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Sam

Knowing that Serra can take care of herself was always comforting. She was good in a fight, this I knew, but running down the tunnel towards the gunfire, I knew that this was a battle that we might not all walk away from. Dean was hopped up on The Mark of Cain, which was an impulse control problem, but in this fight, it might do us some good. We came to a Y intersection of the tunnels and could hear the grunts from fighting men and the occasional yelp from one of our girls. The shear number of bullets that flew through the tunnel was impressive; I never would have guessed that they were all coming from guns that my wife was shooting.

There had to have been thirty demons clustered around the girls as we approached. I wanted to shout her name, but seeing her, being held by a tall, ugly man with a gun to her head was enough to make me stop in my tracks.

Dean hesitated as well. His eyes searched for Grace, who was in a pile, unconscious on the ground, a demon standing above her with his boot on her shoulder. I knew, right then, that he would be the first to die.

"Finally," the ugly demon sighed, "we knew you were coming, but we never anticipated that it would take this long for you to find them." Dean only stared at him, taking controlled breaths as he held the angel blade in his left hand. "You know, I had almost forgotten what you look like, Dean," he said, smiling. "You and Crowley were buddy-buddy, and it was always me being left out."

"Am I supposed to know you?" Dean said, tilting his head.

"Yeah, I'm Dekar," the demon replied. "While you were singing that god-awful karaoke and shooting pool with our fearless leader, I was the one bringing you umbrella drinks and dirty, naked freaks. You were a rock star, Dean. We loved you."

"I'm touched."

Dekar smiled slyly. "It's been about six weeks, hasn't it? Have your eyes gone black yet?"

That question alone struck a chord with Dean, I knew it. He took a step forward, wanting to rush the guy that had his boot on Grace, but restrained. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his hand shaking with rage as we waited to act. Serra stared at me, smiling lightly. I wanted to run to her…we were locked in a standstill, waiting for the other guy to make the first move.

Seconds passed. Dean slowly turned to make eye contact with me and I knew, then and there, that he had made the decision to act. I took a deep breath and steadied myself and I watched my brother launch himself into the crowd.

Chaos broke out, knives and guns being pulled in every direction. Cas and Lucia were behind us, locked in battle with more demons that seemed to be spilling out of the tunnels from every direction. The demons were fast, slashing and jumping as I made my way closer to Serra. Dekar pulled her through the crowd, away from me, and she went kicking and screaming through the horde.

I lost direct sight with her as I fought with a demon about my height. He swung at me and I grabbed his arm, twisting him into submission and I took off his head with the blade I carried. Stepping over his body, I took on two more, stabbing one and pushing another into Cas' angel blade as he followed me towards Serra. I glanced around for Dean and saw that he was headed for Grace, still unconscious on the floor.

Gunshots began and I ducked, feeling the heat from the bullet as it soared passed my face. The demon that carried the pistol seemed surprised at his lack of aim. He held it out again to take another shot and I stepped towards him, disarming him and slicing him with the angel blade. His eyes lit as he burned from the inside. Stashing the pistol, I continued after Serra, almost lost in the crowd.

Dekar had handed her off to a female demon, around her own size. This was a mistake on his part. The female demon had her arm wrapped around Serra's neck and seeing that I was close behind her, Serra threw herself forward with all her might, flipping the female demon and causing her to drop her knife. Grabbing it from the dirt before the demon had a chance to, my wife plunged the blade into her chest and dove towards me, her arms extended. I scooped her from the ground into an embrace and handed her the gun that I took from the one of the other demons. We stood, back-to-back, ready to finish the fight.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Dean

There were a lot of fucking demons to deal with all at once. Luckily, we had Cas and Lucia to back us up, otherwise I think it would have gone a lot worse than it did that night. I let The Mark have its way, barely thinking, and completely letting it take control of my body. I moved, one step at a time, killing anything in my path. The angel blade that I held was not the First Blade, by far, but it definitely got the job done. I only had eyes for Grace. Each step I took was closer to getting her back in my arms and home, safe with me.

As I approached the demon that had his goddammed boot on her shoulder, I realized that I was smiling. He took out a pistol and with one solid move, it was out of his hands and into mine. I knew I didn't want to take him out that way, so I let it fall to the ground and I took another step towards him. He backed up slightly, now afraid of what I was capable of. I was close enough, so I reached for his shirt, pulled him close and ever so delicately, I dragged him onto the angel blade I carried. As he burned from the inside, I held him up by his collar to whisper, "Take your fucking foot off of my wife." He dropped to the ground and I bent to pick Grace up from the mud.

Carrying her was easy; it was the fighting while carrying her that was more difficult. I knew we wouldn't last against the numbers that kept filling the tunnels, so our best bet was just to abandon ship while we could. "Cas!" I shouted, trying to get Grace to him. "Cas! Heal her so we can get her on her feet."

Lucia was closer and she turned towards me, resting her palm on Grace's forehead momentarily. With a flash of blue light, Grace was blinking up at me and the stars aligned, back into their rightful places. She grinned at me, I set her down and like a perfect team, we were back-to-back, killing evil and kicking ass.

She reached behind her, towards my arm and I knew what she was looking for. I swiped my blade across another demon and turned, pulling my sleeve up as high as it would go. Grace flung her hand down onto The Mark and it was like cold water was being splashed on me. I was awake and in control of my own mind for the first time in weeks. I was thinking clearly again and she smiled turning back to the fight, her powers at full potential once again.

Cas turned to stand next to her, Lucia stood on our other side. In one motion, the three of them raised their arms and closed their eyes. I could almost hear the world around me go silent as they brought down the entire tunnel with a blinding flash of blue light, blocking the path for more demons to join us.

"Holy shit," I heard Serra mutter, seeing her sister use her powers, probably for the first time.

We turned and ran towards the exit, winding down corridors and attempting to make our way back to the entrance that we had come in. Dekar and two other demons were hot on our tail. Serra turned over her shoulder and fired twice, surprisingly missing both times. Sam stopped suddenly, causing a domino affect: Serra halted, pulling Grace to a stop. Cas and Lucia followed suit and I stayed towards the back, not ready for what came next.

Dekar rushed my brother, a dark blade out in front of him and at first, Sammy was winning. He threw him to the ground and Serra made her way to the other two demons, swiping at them with the knife in her hand. We could hear the voices of about a dozen more coming to join the fight after the avalanche in the tunnel. I ran to greet them and Grace followed suit. We were killing them, one after another and then a scream that echoed down the hall stopped me dead in my tracks.

"Sam!" Serra shrieked, falling to her knees, holding her palm against the blood pooling out of his stomach. "Sammy!"

Grace made to dive towards him, but Cas was already there, putting his palm on the wound, attempting to close it. Dekar laughed from the background, shaking his head.

"Such a loss," he said, wiping the black blade that he held.

Lucia came to Sam's side as well, holding her hand against his wound, closing her eyes in concentration. Serra leaned over Sam, his head in her lap, tears falling from her face as they worked on my brother. Grace joined the cluster and shook her head at me, her face wet with tears.

Fury fell over me and I ran at Dekar with everything I had. The black blade he held was impervious to my attempts; he was able to block each and every one of my moves. He knocked me down and I jumped back up, attacking again and again. Serra stood, emptying a clip into his chest, but he remained standing, unaffected by her bullets. She screamed in frustration and made to run at him, caution to the wind and Grace caught her, just in time, tackling her to the ground. I continued my assault on Dekar, doing everything that I knew how to do to disarm him. Grace was losing her battle with Serra, her grip on her sister as she was wrought with grief, was barely enough.

"You won't heal him," Dekar shouted at the angels. "This is a Knight Blade," he said, holding up the weapon he used to stab Sammy. "He's gone."

Serra lost all control and broke free of Grace's grip. Grace bent, picked up my Colt from the ground and fired a single shot to the handle of the Knight Blade that Dekar carried. It exploded out of Dekar's grip, coming to rest on the ground in front of Serra. She saw it hit the ground, grabbed it, and before Dekar had a chance to realize what was happening, I came at him from behind, wrapped my arms around him as Serra ran at him, blade extended and sank it deep into his chest.

"Fuck. You," Serra gasped, letting the Knight Blade fall with Dekar as he hit the ground. I pinned him to the floor with my boot and watched as Serra ran back to Sam, still bleeding on the ground.

"What do you mean, 'he won't heal?'" I asked, watching Dekar bleed.

Dekar attempted to smile as the veins in his forehead glowed orange as he struggled to breathe. "The Knight Blade was Abaddon's replacement for The First Blade," he said, spitting out blood as he spoke. "She created a perfect weapon that didn't need The Mark to function." He grinned, his teeth red from the blood he coughed. "Your brother is gone."

I used my boot to press the blade farther into his chest and he squirmed, trying to get away from the pain. "So are you," I whispered, watching the life drain from his eyes. I bent and pulled the black knife from Dekar's chest and ran to Sammy's side. "Sammy?" I cried, slapping his face to get his attention. "Sam!"

Grace stared at me through the tears in her eyes. "We can't heal him. I don't understand."

"It's this," I said, tossing it to Cas, "He called it The Knight Blade."

Cas struggled to heal my brother and paid little attention to the weapon he held. Setting it to the side, he put pressure back on Sam's wound.

"I'm so glad you're safe," Sam said, having eyes only for Serendipity.

She shook her head, wiping her face with a filthy hand, "You shut your face," she said, "don't you start."

Sam closed his eyes and wheezed as he struggled to take a breath. There was blood dripping from his mouth as he coughed weakly. "Serra. You're safe. That's what matters." He closed his eyes again as he reached for Serra's hand. "That's enough for me."

"No, you idiot. That's not fucking enough. You're coming home," she said, holding his head by his hair. "You hear me? This isn't over."

"Come on," I said, motioning to Cas, trying to hold it together, "help me get him up. We'll get him to a hospital."

Sam gasped as Cas and I picked him up from the muddy ground and tears leaked from his eyes. "Oh, God, Dean, it didn't hurt until now."

"Shut up," I said, gruff. "You're going to a hospital."

Blood poured from Sam as we carried him down the remaining tunnel and Lucia placed her palm on the wall, bloody from Sam's wound. The wall disappeared and allowed us out, into the evening light. I had forgotten how heavy Sammy was; I tripped at the entrance and almost dropped him, getting another gasp from Sam and then he went limp.

"Dean!" Grace's voice was an octave higher as we set him down. "Dean, he's not breathing."

Serra was on him in a flash, pounding his chest and then pulling his head back, breathing oxygen into his mouth while plugging his nose. "Breathe, you sonofabitch," Serra sobbed. She took another breath as she pounded on his chest. "Breathe!"

Sam gasped and opened his eyes, making eye contact with his wife. "Serra?"

"I'm here, Sammy. You forgot to breathe for a second," she wiped her face with her arm, smearing his blood across her cheek.

Tears welled in Sam's eyes and for the first time, I knew I was about to lose my brother. I turned away, unable to watch. "I love you, Sere. I'm just so glad we found you."

Serra lay across his chest, pleading with him, "Sammy, no. No. I don't accept this."

"Sere."

"No!" she shouted, hitting him again in the chest. Cas made to step towards her, but I pulled him away by his coat. We watched the life drain out of my brother as Serra became more and more inconsolable.

"I can't do this without you, damnit," Serra cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. "How am I supposed to have a kid without you here?"

With some effort, Sam flicked his eyes towards his wife, momentarily confused. "What?"

"You can't knock me up and then die on me," Serra yelled, lying on the steps to the mausoleum. I put a hand to my mouth as I realized what my sister-in-law was saying.

"Another Winchester," Sam breathed, smiling lightly, blood stained on his teeth. "You do it for a living. You'll be okay."

"No, no, no, no," Serra was muttering, slapping Sam's face; trying to get him to stay conscious. His eyes closed again and his chest fell with his final breath. "Sammy!" Grace gasped and covered her face with her hands and I knew that my brother had breathed his last breath. "Sam!"

Serra flung herself over Sam's body and wept, convulsing on his chest as she struggled to breathe. Time slowed as I looked around at the remaining members of my family and I fell to my knees, knowing that I wouldn't see my brother witness his child being born.

Grace cried openly, hot tears streaming down her face. She reached out for her sister and Serra shoved her hand away. "No! Get away from me!"

"Serra," Grace said, pleading.

"No! It's not fair!" Serra sobbed, lying on Sam's chest. "Heal him!"

Shaking her head, Grace cried harder. "I can't! I tried! We tried!"

Turning on Castiel and Lucia, Serra screamed at them as well. "Heal him! Do something!"

Lucia simply stared at her, pain washing over her face as much as an angel could show. She shook her head. "Serendipity, the blade your husband was stabbed with…it had to have been cursed. I've never seen magic like that."

"I don't _fucking care about magic!"_ Serra screamed, pounding on Sam's chest again, trying to blow air back into his lungs. "Do something!"

Cas leaned over Sam once more, closing his eyes and concentrating as he did so many times before. The telltale blue glow shown over his stomach, but the wound refused to close and Sam's heart remained still. "There is nothing to be done," Castiel said quietly.

Serra turned on him then, pounding her fists into his chest, leaving blood across his trench coat. He allowed her to punish him, closing his eyes as she beat him relentlessly. Finally, she exhausted herself and collapsed into Cas' arms, sobbing. With tears in his eyes, Cas turned to stare at me and Grace on the ground next to Sam's body. "I am so sorry, Serendipity."

…..

I don't know how long we sat there on the steps of the mausoleum, but eventually, we could hear the screech of bats fluttering around us. Moving was an idea that I couldn't comprehend and I would have been content to sit out my days on the ground. Before I realized what was happening, I was sitting back on the porch of my house, listening to the wheat blow in the gentle breeze. Turning, I realized that Grace sat next to me, and then to my other side, Serra appeared. She was close to unconsciousness and leaned over Grace, still weeping silently. Grace wrapped her arms around her, attempting to carry her to the house.

"What happened? How are we back?" I asked quietly, watching Grace.

She stared silently at me momentarily and shook her head. "Cas," was all she had to say.

I knew it was because moving away from his body meant that he was really dead, but I was filled with a fury and despair that I had only felt once or twice before in my lifetime. My little brother was dead.

…..

Shutting her eyes, Serra allowed herself to be showered and changed into clean clothes. Jody and Grace washed her body, scrubbed the month-and-a-half layer of dirt and grime out of her hair and put her in a pair of Grace's sweats and a shirt. Grace led her to the second bedroom next door to the master upstairs and guided her to the bed. Barely holding it together herself, Grace then trudged back to the bathroom and allowed Jody to help her get clean and changed. Standing in the middle of our bedroom, Grace broke down, finally, collapsing onto the floor and gasping for air. Hearing her from the first floor, I walked up the stairs, and with tears in my own eyes, took over as Jody tiptoed out of the room.

Laying her head on my shoulder, I allowed Grace to cry. I could only hold her, having no words to comfort her, no promises to make. Sam was gone and there was nothing I could do to make it right. The demons hadn't followed us; watching Dekar die seemed to be enough for them. They fell back into the shadows and did not remerge. I had a feeling that we weren't done with them, but I had little time for that at the moment. The Knight Blade was safely stored in the panic room downstairs and I wanted little to do with it anyway.

Cas appeared in the middle of the room, gesturing to the hallway. I furrowed my eyebrows at him, "This isn't the time, Cas. I don't give a shit."

"You will, Dean. Just hear me out."

Grace lifted her head and turned towards the angel, wiping her face. "What are you talking about, Cas?"

Obviously, he had been thinking about the plan he was about to tell me about, because Grace was already on her way to spilling the beans. "We may be able to bring Sam home."

"What, his body? Yeah, I should hope so," I said, rolling my eyes and pulling myself into a standing position.

Cas shook his head. "No, just listen to me. We have very little time to act."

Grace stared at him and I could see her comprehension dawning on her as he opened his mouth to speak. "Is that even possible?"

"Is what even possible?" I asked, looking from Grace to Cas and back again.

Glancing at me, Grace raised her eyebrows. "He wants to go into heaven and bring Sam home."

"What?"

Cas took a deep breath and began pacing around the room. "It's a theory that Lucia and I came up with together. We think it will work."

"More, Cas, I need more than that."

Taking over and explaining it to me simply, Grace watched as Castiel paced. "He's in waiting," she said, translating Cas' thoughts to me. "Because he has a…spotty past, they didn't really know what to do with Sam's soul right away."

"What?"

"He's a good man, yes, but he was possessed, voluntarily, by Lucifer, drank demon blood, as has killed more people than they can count."

"All for the cause!" I shouted, getting defensive.

Grace shook her head. I was obviously missing the point. "No, just listen. He's on his way to making it in, but there had to be a trial. The guardians had to make sure that his reputation was enough."

"And?"

"He's still in limbo. Cas is saying that we might be able to talk to the trial panel before the angels place him in heaven." Grace smiled, maybe for the first time since seeing her in the tunnels of The Pit.

I shook my head, "What about his body? He's wrecked. You said you couldn't heal him."

Cas again, shook his head. "I wouldn't have to," he said, smiling. "When you are placed in limbo, you are automatically given the body you see yourself in. You get to detail it to your…preferences when you are admitted into heaven."

"So he has a new body and he's just waiting in limbo for a decision."

Castiel nodded at me, smiling slightly. "We don't have much time, though. Grace and I would need to leave immediately."

"Whoa, whoa," I said, putting my hands in front of me, blocking Cas' path towards my wife. "I just got her back. Why can't you and your Lady Friend do it?"

"I need her, Dean," Cas said, "She understand Sam in a way I do not. Plus, she's half human. Getting into Limbo requires a mortal."

"So take me."

"She's also half angel, which is beneficial. She'll blend in and they'll accept her."

I shook my head, pacing around the room. I didn't like it. We just got reunited and here Cas was, trying to separate us again already. "Cas, I literally just went to Hell to get her back. If you lose her going into Heaven, I'll kill you myself."

"I understand," Cas replied, not finding it odd that I threatened his life in the least.

"I guess you're in charge of Serra, then," Grace said, twisting her hair into a bun on top of her head. She turned to look at me. "I'm not even going to look at Liberty yet. I won't be able to go if I do." She wrapped her arms around me and I took a deep breath of her sweet scent. "Serra's gonna wake up pissed. Throw some food at her and lock her in the room with Lib and she'll probably be okay until I get back."

I nodded, realizing how terrifying Serra would be as she grieved. Grace reached up on her tiptoes, placing her hand on The Mark of Cain as she kissed me. Electricity flowed through the both of us as she took a deep breath. "Okay. Let's do this before I lose my nerve."

Cas led her out of our room and back down the steps. Almost immediately, the house was silent again and the dread settled back into my chest as I sat on the floor, leaning up against the wall, tears flowing down my face as I struggled to breathe.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Sam

There was no more pain, no blood, no mud. I stood and looked down at myself; the wound from the blade that sunk into my stomach was gone and I was in different clothes. My hands were clean and I was barefoot. "What the hell?" I said aloud, unable to stop myself.

Completely alone, my voice echoed through the large, white room. I spun in a slow three-sixty to stare at my surroundings. I had no idea what had happened. Struggling to remember, and I shook my head, replaying the last moments before I passed out.

"Serra," I mumbled, walking towards what I thought was a wall. The wall extended as I walked towards it…like it was some kind of masterful illusion. I remembered being stabbed and I remembered talking to my wife, but I had no idea how I got here or what was going to happen next.

"Hello?" I ventured, reaching what I thought was the edge of the room, but as I reached for it, the wall extended again, unwilling to be touched.

There was a flutter of wings and I turned to see a woman, delicate and feminine, dressed in all white, staring at me with large brown eyes. "Hello, Sammy."

I narrowed my eyes, staring at the woman. "Who are you?" Gesturing to the rest of the room, I continued, "What is this place?"

She took a step towards me, and normally, I would have taken a step back, but I was oddly at ease with this woman. I had no fear of what would happen to me; nor of the woman that stood before me. "I'm Serendipity and Grace's mother, Evangeline. I am so happy to meet you."

Shock hit me like a bucket of cold water. "You're Serra's mom?" I glanced around, putting it all together. "I'm dead."

Evangeline smiled apologetically. "I'm so sorry, honey. Grace and the others tried to save you, but you were stabbed with a cursed weapon."

"I left her?" Tears welled in my eyes almost immediately, realizing that Serra was alone on Earth and I was so far away, stuck here in—"Where are we?"

Evangeline took another step forward, almost looking like she wanted to hug me. She didn't, still standing about a footstep away. The similarities between Serra and her mother were uncanny and I couldn't help but stare. She smiled Serra's smile and took a small breath. "You're almost in heaven, Sammy. I'm just here to keep you company."

"Almost?" I asked, running a hand through my hair, beginning to panic. "I can't go to heaven. I have to go home. I have to get back to Serra," I said, trying to keep my breathing calm. "We've only been married a year."

"I know, sweetie, but there's no going back. That was a one way door you came through."

Turning, I glanced to where she pointed and I ran over, trying to feel for a door or a seal to break through. "No," I said. "We belong together. She's…she's everything, Evangeline. I have to go back." She only stared, tears in her eyes as she watched me battle with the truth of the situation. I began to remember parts of the final conversation Serra and I shared and shaking my head, I turned away from Evangeline, trying my hardest to keep it together. "I have to go back to her," I said quietly, finally directing my words at Serra's mother. "She's pregnant."

Evangeline smiled knowingly and nodded. "I know and I am so happy for you two. Serra and Gracie both…you boys take such good care of my girls. I am so happy you found each other. You know, Fate brought you together."

"I know," I said, nodding, "but demons took us apart. Please. Let me go home and raise my child."

Evangeline pressed her lips together and shrugged lightly. "I don't have that power, honey."

I turned and tried to hit the wall behind me out of frustration, but merely swiped my arm through the air. "What am I waiting for?"

"The panel is deciding if your good outweighs your bad," she answered, twirling a straight strand of chestnut hair through her fingers.

Shaking my head, comprehension dawned on me. "It's a trial to see if I make it into heaven?"

Evangeline nodded again, allowing her hands to fall from her hair and lacing her fingers together in front of her. "I wouldn't worry, Sammy. Serra loves you, and usually, a judgment call from an honorable mortal is enough."

The longer I spoke to Evangeline, the more of Serra I saw in her. The way she moved, the tilt of her head when she spoke; they were all Serra. It made my soul hurt. I raised my eyebrows, my voice taking on a different tone, curiosity getting the better of me. "All I see is Serra when I look at you. I don't see Grace at all."

"Grace is more angel than human, Sammy. If you watch Lucia and Grace together, they look more like mother and daughter than Grace and I do," she said, thoughtful. "She's my daughter, but she is also a daughter of Heaven."

"And you're okay with that?"

Serra's mother tilted her head before answering. "I wasn't for a very long time. I carried her and she was a piece of me, but the longer she was alive, the more I knew that it wasn't my influences that she had inherited." Evangeline looked sad, but pensive. "They are sisters, if that's what you are wondering. Full sisters. Grace just has Heavenly influences."

I nodded, addressing the absence of walls behind me. I wanted out. I wanted to go home. Carefully, I followed what I thought was the edge of the room, but there was no obvious containment. I circled wider and wider as Evangeline watched me. "Is this even a room?"

"It's whatever they need it to be," she answered, playing with her hair absentmindedly again. "There's no way out, if that's what you're asking."

I shook my head, running my hands through my hair again. "Please, Evangeline. Please help me go home."

…..

Castiel stood at the playground entrance point of Heaven and smiled lightly at the angelic guard that was posted on the park bench near the jungle gym. He looked up from his newspaper and acknowledged Cas, nodding once. The guard didn't seem to question Grace; he simply turned his attention back to his paper. _They sense that you're angelic, but apparently, the percentage doesn't matter,_ Cas thought, glancing at Grace as they proceeded to the sand pit. Grace watched as the flash of light carried them up to Heaven. Finding solid ground, Grace fell to her knees, breathing hard as they appeared in the bright white of Heave's pristine halls.

"Grace," Cas said, turning to her and helping her find her feet. "What is it?"

Shaking her head, trying to move on, she waved her hand. "Don't worry about it. I still get waves of nausea occasionally, and apparently, jumping from Earth to Heaven is a bit much for the human side of me."

Castiel nodded, seemingly understanding. Striding off down the hall, Cas knew where he was going, so Grace hurried to follow, still struggling with her nausea.

The halls of Heaven were so different compared to the halls and tunnels that wove through Hell. Grace was much more at ease here…the sounds and voices she heard were not just in her mind, they echoed like whispers through the vast rooms and bright white spaces. It was oddly comforting.

Turning right at the end of the hall, Grace followed closed behind Castiel. "How are we going to do this, Cas? Isn't someone going to notice that we're here? Or that Sam isn't anymore?"

"We're not going to steal him back," Cas' deep voice replied. "We're simply going to go to the panel of watchers and plead with them. Occasionally, they listen to reason."

"What, an renegade angel and a blaspheme?"

Castiel stopped in his tracks, turning to stare at Grace. "You are most certainly not a blaspheme," he started, taking a step closer to her. "You have been accepted by Our Father himself. I would not have brought you here if I thought you would be in danger."

Grace was shaking her head, "Dude, Cas. I don't know about this."

"Grace," Castiel said, taking another step forward and putting his hands on her shoulders, "you are my best friend's wife and the mother of his children. I would never risk your life. Or your infants'."

"That's sweet, Cas. Thanks." Grace absentmindedly lowered her hand to put it on her abdomen. "I still can't believe that we're having another baby."

"Babies," Cas said, turning back to the hall and striding down it without Grace.

Grace took a couple of steps towards him and tilted her head. "Babies?"

As he walked, Cas nodded, "Yes, they are developing nicely. I can hear both of their heartbeats." Abruptly, Grace stopped walking and stood in the middle of the bright white hallway. Castiel continued to the end of the hall before he realized that Grace was no longer behind him. "Grace?" She stared forward, hand on her belly as Cas came to stand in front of her, bending slightly to look into her face. "Grace? Are you alright?"

Ever so faintly, she lifted her eyebrows. "Babies?" she breathed.

Cas rolled his eyes and stared at her. "Grace, I was under the assumption that you knew. They have separate heartbeats that I can distinctly hear, which means that you can, too."

Finally coming around, Grace flicked her eyes to Cas' and furrowed her eyebrows. "I've been tortured in Hell for the last few weeks, Cas. I was a little distracted."

"That's understandable," he said, nodding. "But it doesn't change the fact that you will deliver twins."

"You haven't said anything to Dean, have you?"

Cas shook his head, turning back to the hall. He began walking again and Grace shook her head, knowing that she would deal with this later. "Dean will be happy that you're carrying a son along with your second daughter," he said as they walked. "Sam is in a room at the end of this hall. I can hear him."

"Jesus, Cas. Spoiler alert."

"I apologize," he said, coming to a shift in the wall that made up the white tunnel. "He's here."

Grace turned to where Cas was pointing and reached out to touch it as well, trying to feel for her brother-in-law. "I can't hear him," Grace said, shaking her head. "Are you sure?"

"Your senses could be altered, being here. The concentration of angelic minds in one place tends to cloud your senses if you're not used to it."

Grace nodded as she went to follow Cas again. The room at the end of the hall was open, with angels milling about in a social way. One of them noticed as they approached and turned to greet them. "Greetings, Castiel. We don't get the pleasure of your company here at home very often." The angel gestured to Grace and smiled, "And you've brought a guest?"

"Yes, this is Grace Winchester," Castiel said, all business. "We are here to plead for Sam Winchester's return to Earth."

"She is Nephilim," the angel said quietly, "She really should not be here, Castiel." She closed her eyes and smiled, "And she carries life."

"I realize that, but Our Father has accepted her and she is a part of our family now. I brought her to help plead our case." He gestured to the gathering of angels in the empty room. "Please, Mahaila. Let us bring Sam home."

The angel Mahaila simply stared at Grace and Castiel, tilting her head slightly. "Is she his wife?"

"No," Grace said, stepping forward, "he's my husband's brother."

Another angel turned to be a part of the conversation. "Did I hear 'Winchester?'" he asked, stepping forward. "I have heard of them. One was to be Michael's vessel in the End of Days."

Grace nodded, "Yes, that's Dean. He's my husband."

There was a murmur as the panel of angels dissolved into discussion amongst themselves. Finally, one of them spoke. "Come, child," the taller angel opened his arm welcomingly, "tell us why Sam should go back to Earth."


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Sam paced around the room, still looking for a way out. Evangeline watched him, silent as he walked. "I'm not supposed to be here," he was saying. "This isn't right. We were out of the game."

Evangeline nodded. "But you went after the girls, which I will forever be grateful for, but when you entered Hell, you were back in the game. You died so my daughters could live."

"I died because a demon stabbed me with a cursed blade," Sam replied coldly. Evangeline said nothing, but pressed her lips together. Her attention was pulled away from Sam, only momentarily, but long enough to be obvious to Sam. "What is it?" he asked, taking a step closer to her.

"I'm not sure," she said, listening. "I feel like I know the voice that I hear."

Sam followed her line of sight towards the empty space in front of him. There were no voices that he could pick up on, but he was no angel. "Who?"

Evangeline didn't answer right away. She walked gently towards the end of the room, disappearing as she moved closer to the illusion of a wall. When she was gone, Sam rolled his eyes in frustration and ran a hand through his hair again.

Coming into the white hallway, Evangeline looked around for the source of the voice she had heard, only moments before. The panel's discussion room door was open and she found herself drawn to the angels that were gathered there. "He gave his life to save her," Mahaila was saying. "Admitting him into Heaven after some of the deeds that he committed is a reward in itself. Why should he get a second chance, Castiel?"

The angel Castiel answered authoritatively, "He is a husband and a soon-to-be-father," he began, addressing the room, "The only reason he was there was to save his wife and her sister from Hell. The demons are searching for a new king and Sam and Serendipity Winchester are partially responsible for Hell still not having a ruler." Evangeline came closer to the open door and tried to continue to breathe slowly. The panel was talking about her daughters and she wanted to hear the wonderful things that she was sure they would say. Castiel continued: "Sam's path should not have ended in Hell. The future held many more things for the Winchester family and Fate will not be realized if you do not send him back."

Mahaila took a deep breath before answering. "Fate will find a way to make sure his child's Destiny is realized."

"That's just another way of saying that I am right," Cas said. "Wouldn't it be simpler to just send him back and allow Fate to do what it was planning on doing from the beginning? There was to be another of Sam Winchester born, and you know it."

Gesturing to Grace, Mahaila smiled, "Why do you think she carries two?" she said, gesturing to Grace.

"Leave me out of this," Grace answered, her voice echoing with authority. "My carrying twins has nothing to do with the fact that Sam should have two, if that's what Fate expected."

"They are still Winchesters."

"They're Dean Winchester's. Not Sam's. I am also Nephilim. There is a difference and you know it."

Evangeline reached the open door of the panel room and gasped slightly upon seeing the beauty of her eldest daughter in the flesh. There she stood, so different and yet so similar to Evangeline's memory of her. Her hair was much longer than it had been as a child; blonde wavy locks fell down her back, pinned back with a simple barrette on the crown of her head. She was tall and stood with her hands on her hips, just as she did when she was a young girl. She was strong, stubborn and compassionate, just as Evangeline knew she would be.

"Grace," she whispered, leaning against the doorway.

Evangeline knew Grace heard her; there was a flick of acknowledgement from her daughter as she stood, addressing the trial. Smiling lightly, she waited her turn to have time with her daughter, still leaning up against the doorframe and listening intently.

The angels of the panel were amused by Grace's line of reasoning. Shaking her head, Mahaila responded to Grace politically. "Grace Winchester, you cannot pretend to understand the lines of Fate and Destiny or what they may or may not have planned for you and your family. You speak as if it was against Destiny for Sam to be killed. What if it was part of the Greater Plan for your sister to continue without her husband? What if it makes her stronger still?"

Grace was shaking her head, closing her eyes, angry. "No, I don't accept that. She's had to be strong her entire life. She finally had someone that she would be happy with, who would be her partner in life. Having them separated? It would break her."

"Why?"

Taking a deep breath and mulling her answer over in her head before she spoke it aloud, Grace looked down at her hands, folded in front of her slightly rounded abdomen. Finally, she looked back up at Mahaila and took a deep, shaky breath. "Because Sam is the one that put her back together in the first place."

The angels were silent but accepting of Grace's reasoning. "Well," said an older Seraph. "This trial has become something different entirely. Bringing Sam into Heaven is no longer the issue. Allowing him home, back to Earth…that is the new question."

Grace took a step forward, still confident with her head held upright. "I'm not asking for Sam to come home because it would be good for my sister. I'm asking for him to come home because it's the right thing to do." She pointed to the door and allowed emotion to take her voice, "We have been in Hell, literally, for almost six weeks. We were stranded, alone. Finally, Sam and my husband, along with Castiel and Lucia came to our aid…and we lost Sam. And it was awful. After being tortured and almost dying in our cells, don't you think we have all been through enough? How much is enough? How much more does my sister…my family have to suffer?"

The eldest Seraph at the table smiled knowingly. "I have heard you, my child. We will discuss this now, together, behind closed doors." Castiel reached for Grace's hand and tugged slightly. She went willingly with him, but turned and spoke one last time, "Please."

Castiel pulled Grace out of the trial room and the doors shut behind them. Grace rubbed her face with both of her hands and sighed deeply. "What now? What if they don't go for it?"

"We'll figure it out," Cas was saying, staring at Evangeline. "Who are you?" he said, addressing her and moving to stand in between her and Grace.

"I am Evangeline," she said simply. From behind Castiel, she watched her daughter listen to her voice from behind her hands, still covering her face. Slowly, she lowered them and stared, her blue eyes filling with tears as soon as she made eye contact with her.

"Mom," she said, stepping around Castiel.

"Hi, honey," Evangeline greeted, her face brightening and a smile spreading across her face. Very slowly, Grace reached out towards her, fearing that she wasn't real, that she would vanish at her touch, as if in a dream. "It's okay. I'm me."

Taking another step forward, Grace touched Evangeline's shoulder gently, testing the waters. "You're here?" she asked, looking up at her face. "Why?"

"I help with the trials some times," Evangeline said, shrugging. "It gives me something to do."

Without warning, Grace launched herself at her mother, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and hugging her with ferocity of twenty years of emptiness. "I can't believe you're here."

Slowly, fearing she would disappear, Evangeline returned the hug, her hands finding her daughter's hair and pulling her closer. "It was Destiny," she said quietly. "I knew we would see each other again."

Castiel came closer to the women, smiling painfully. "This is your mother?" he asked Grace.

Grace nodded, smiling. "Yeah, this is my mom. I can't believe it."

"You're a Watcher?" he said, speaking to Evangeline.

"Only for the trials."

Grace listened to the exchange with a weak smile on her face. "Does that mean you've met Sam? Where is he? Can we talk to him?"

Evangeline was shaking her head, "I'm sorry, honey. No," she said, cupping Grace's face with both her hands. "He is alone for now while they make their decision." She paused, brushing a strand of Grace's hair out of her face. "You're so gorgeous," she said, grinning. "You look so much like your father."

"I've missed you so much," Grace said, wiping the tear from her face. "So much has happened."

Evangeline nodded and closed her eyes. "I know," she said, "you're one of the reasons I became a Watcher in Heaven. I get to see everyone come through these halls and I get to be a part of their lives for a short time. Occasionally, I am allowed to see what is happening on Earth because of the trials. We see scenes from others' lives and every once and awhile, I am permitted to take a glance at my girls." She took a deep breath. "I am so proud of who you have become, Gracie."

Staring at her mother; still unbelieving that she was real, Grace smiled. "I am too." She laughed, joy finding its way to the surface, "Have you seen Liberty?"

Tears came to Evangeline's eyes suddenly as she giggled with her daughter. "I have. She's the most wonderful thing in the world." She wiped her face, frustrated with her emotions. "You and Dean make some amazing creatures."

"And now twins, Mom? Did you hear that?"

Evangeline shook her head. "It's just incredible."

"I think they're why I had so much power in Hell. I could draw on them while we were there…Dean's Mark traveled with them and I didn't have to worry about regenerating myself because the babies did that for me."

"Fate, sweetie. Fate took care of it all."

Grace nodded, smiling lightly to herself. "Dean is going to have a coronary."

"He will be fine," Evangeline said, putting a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Three children," she sighed. "Three grandchildren."

"Three under two," Grace muttered, raising her eyebrows. "And Serra's too."

"That's right! I almost forgot about Serra being pregnant as well. Oh, heavens. Sisters pregnant together," Evangeline's eyes were weepy again, "You girls always did do everything together." Wiping her face again, she turned to Castiel. "I'm so sorry, Castiel, we left you out of that exchange entirely. What do you think the panel's decision will be?"

Shrugging slightly, Cas shook his head. "I'm not sure, but Grace made an excellent case for Sam."

"It sounded like it," she replied, grinning at her daughter. "I've seen reversals before."

"How long do they usually take to come to an agreement?" Castiel asked, glancing back towards the panel room. "This isn't something I wanted to wait on."

"They move through the trials quickly, Castiel. There are many souls to contend with."


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Serra rolled slowly, glancing through her swollen eyelids to look at the clock. She had been asleep for almost ten hours. Twelve hours had passed since losing Sam. Attempting to sit up, Serra took a deep, unsteady breath and almost put her feet down on Johnny. He stared up at her with his deep brown eyes, thumping his tail on the rug. Whimpering quietly, he stood and put his head on her lap. Simply staring at him, Serra shook her head. "Hi, dog."

He thumped his tail once more and Serra could feel tears come to her eyes again, completely at a loss. Johnny looked back over his shoulder at the semi-open door. He whined, getting up and walking to the door and then circled back to Serra, still on the bed. "I don't know what you want," she said quietly. He put his head on the bed next to her and continued to whine. Glancing at the ceiling, Serra tried to hold it together, realizing that Johnny was looking for Sam. "He's not here, dog. He's not…" she gasped, trying her hardest not to cave to the overwhelming need to cry. "He's not coming home."

Johnny got up and paced around the room again, wagging his tail. Serra rolled her head, several pops echoing through the empty bedroom. She glanced down at her hands, still raw from the wounds that Grace had healed what seemed like a lifetime ago. With some effort, she stood, breathing deeply and walking to the window that looked out, over Grace and Dean's property. The window had a straight shot view of the Small House, just visible over the tree line. The house that she and Sam had purchased together. The house that she would have to return to eventually, to raise their child alone.

Looking away, Serra closed her eyes and turned back towards the bed, walking slowly and shuffling her feet. Downstairs, she could hear Dean and Liberty talking. "What do you want?" Dean was saying, "You want some applesauce?"

"Yesh," Liberty replied, clapping once for emphasis.

Serra glanced at Johnny, who perked his ears as he listened to his playmate. "Well, go see her, then," Serra said as she fell onto the bed, face down. Johnny trotted out of the room, down the steps and Serra could hear that he had found her, Libby's squeal echoed through the house. Serra breathed her sister's scent from the quilt on the bed as tears leaked from her eyes. She could hear Libby playing with Johnny and then the telltale click as he ran back up the steps, Libby close on his heels.

"Lib, leave Auntie Lucky alone, baby," came Dean's voice quietly.

Liberty's footsteps hesitated on the stairs, obviously turning back towards her father. "Wucky," she replied. "Wuv Wucky."

"You want to love on Lucky?" Dean repeated, translating Lib's words. He obviously took a few steps up the stairs to join her. "I don't know, kiddo. She might still be sleeping."

"Johnny," Lib said.

"Yeah, you're right. Johnny's up, so Lucky probably is too." Dean took another couple of steps up the stairs, following his daughter.

Serra listened as her niece padded down the hall towards the bedroom where she lay, facedown. She had no idea where Grace was, nor did she have the energy to care, but she didn't know if she had it in her to interact with the sixteen-month-old.

Johnny bounded into the room, pushing the bedroom door open wider and Liberty followed him in, bouncing up onto the bed. Dean hesitated, standing in the doorway to watch as Serra turned towards Liberty, not bothering to try to smile. Without pause, Liberty sat down on the pillow at the head of the bed and patted Serra on the head. "Hi, Wucky."

"Hi, Lib," she replied, her voice void of emotion.

The toddler lowered her face to be level with her aunt, holding her face with her chubby hand. "Wuv Wucky," she repeated, still leaning forward. Dean retreated quietly, stepping back out of the doorway and heading back down the hall, leaving the girls alone with Johnny.

"Love Liberty," Serra responded automatically. She closed her eyes at the baby's touch, warmth returning to her face.

Johnny jumped up onto the bed and circled once, lying at the foot of the bed as Liberty burrowed beneath the blankets to lie next to Serra. Together, they fell asleep, comfort in each other's company.

An hour later, Liberty stirred, touching Serra's face and grinning, waiting for her aunt to open her eyes. Serra complied, smiling lightly at her niece. "Hi, Meatloaf."

"Hi," Lib said, grinning. "Up!"

"I don't want to get up."

Lib pulled on Serra's shirt, relentless. "Up!" she repeated, tapping her lightly. Johnny's tail thumped, agreeing with his tiny playmate.

Serra rolled, glancing again at the clock. Thirteen hours had passed. This wasn't getting easier. Slowly, she sat up, pain not only in her body, but her emotions and thoughts broken as well. Liberty stood on the bed, walking to where Serra sat and leaned on her back and patting her face.

"Mac cheese," Libby said, pointing to the kitchen.

Serra turned and couldn't help the smile that crept across her face. "You want mac and cheese," she repeated.

Libby nodded, plopping down on the quilt and running out of the door, hesitating in the hall while she waited for Serra to stand. "Wucky. Come."

"You're gonna make me make you mac and cheese?"

Libby nodded again, grinning.

"Fine," she said, standing slowly and shuffling out into the hallway. "I have to pee first."

"Pee pee!" Lib shouted gleefully, following her into the bathroom, Johnny close at her heels as well.

Serra turned to shut the door behind her, but Lib and Johnny pushed their way through, crowding the bathroom with blonde curls and wagging tails. "Can't get a moment's peace," Serra muttered, shaking her head. She looked up at the clock on the wall. Thirteen hours and seven minutes. She sighed, gave up on shutting the door and made her way through the crowd to finally use the bathroom.

…..

Dean watched as Serra walked down the stairs, Libby and Johnny in her wake. She hadn't noticed him from his place on the couch as she shuffled into the kitchen and opened cupboards, looking for the box of mac and cheese that Libby had requested.

Taking a swig of beer, Dean stared at his sister-in-law. Her entire demeanor had changed; her shoulders were slumped and she kept the hood up of the sweatshirt she wore. She took small steps, measuring the water into the pot as Libby looked on. Staying silent on the couch, Dean took a deep breath, knowing it would be best just to stay out of the way. The hole that Sam left in everyone's soul was physically painful and Dean knew that unless Grace and Cas were successful in bringing him home, Serra would end up more broken than him. On top of that, knowing that she carried his brother's child…well, drinking heavily was the only answer Dean could come up with.

She turned the gas on to the stovetop and listened to the click as it lit. Adding a lid to the pot of water, she turned and sighed as she stared down at her companions. Johnny sat in front of her, tail thumping on the linoleum as she considered him. "What, dog? Did Dean feed you?"

From the couch, Dean said, "Yeah, before he came up to see you."

Serra turned, obviously surprised at his presence on the couch. "Jesus, Dean," she gasped, taking a step back.

"Sorry," he said, slowly getting to his feet and walking over to the kitchen, walking barefoot across the floor. "I didn't want to suffocate you. I've just been staying out of the way."

Taking a couple of deep breaths, Serra turned back towards her brother-in-law. "I can see that," she said quietly. "If you're here, why am I waiting on your daughter?"

Dean shrugged. "Because it gave you something to do?"

Serra rolled her eyes and turned back to Libby. "Lib!" she said in mock excitement, "go find your pink Care Bear! I haven't seen it in a long time!"

Libby's green eyes got wide, catching the contagious excitement that her aunt displayed. "Care bear!" she shouted and took off running towards the living room toy bin.

Not batting an eye, Serra turned back to Dean and put her hand on her hip, annoyed. "Where is Grace?"

Immediately, Dean broke eye contact and turned towards the fridge, getting out two more bottles of beer and opening them on using the bottle opener that was attached to the doorframe. He handed one to Serra, who took it, but continued to stare at Dean. "You want some meatloaf?" Dean asked, completely avoiding the question.

"Dean," she said quietly. "Where is my sister?"

Looking down at his beer, Dean shook his head. "I don't think I should tell you until she gets back."

Serra shook her head, annoyed. "Why?"

"Because you've already been through too much."

Eyes welling with tears again, Serra shook her head as well. Dean remained silent as Serra stirred the pasta into the boiling water. Lifting her arm, she touched her mouth with the back her hand, trying to hold it together in front of Dean. She glanced towards Lib, still digging through the stuffed animals in her toy box and shook her head once more. "I guess you're gonna be the daddy around here, huh?"

Dean looked away from her as he took another drink from his beer. The searing pain of the raw emotion that he could feel rising in his throat was almost too much to bear. He tried to speak, but his voice came out more as a whisper than anything, "I guess we got Cas, too."

Serra broke then, a puff of air escaping her mouth in a sob and she covered her face. Setting his beer on the counter, Dean moved slowly towards her, reaching out to touch her shoulder. Resisting at first, she pulled away, but then Dean forced her to turn towards him, pulling her into his chest and wrapping her into a hug. She cried then, knowing that Dean was probably the only other person that understood how she felt. Glancing up at the clock, Serra counted once more; thirteen hours and twenty-four minutes.

…..

Cas watched as Grace paced around the room, glancing up towards her mother every few minutes. "If they don't let him come back, what are we going to do?" she asked, speaking almost to herself. "We can't just leave him here."

"We might not have a choice," Cas replied, putting his hands in the pocket of his trench coat. "We cannot take on the force of Heaven, Grace. You barely survived taking on Hell. You can't expect to win that fight."

The tension was almost too much for her to take. Continuing her pace around the room, she glanced back at her mother once more. "You should see Serra, Mom. She's…she is so beautiful and so stubborn. When she got married, she wore your veil…she's a NICU lead nurse…she found her truck in New Orleans…"

"I know, sweetie. I saw it all," Evangeline said, watching her walk. "I've kept a close eye on you both."

"This has to work," Grace was saying as she walked. "She has had such a hard life."

Castiel and Evangeline remained silent, hoping that it would.

…..

Sam continued to walk loops around the room with no doors or windows, each time making his loop wider around the room, looking for a way out. He had been alone for a while now, Evangeline had disappeared through the wall and not yet returned. Feeling completely helpless, Sam shook his head and finally, sat down in the middle of the room, his head resting in his hands.

More than twenty minutes passed in solitude and finally, with a flash of blue light, a figure appeared in front of him. On his feet and backing away quickly, Sam lifted his eyebrows and spoke quietly, "Who are you?"

"I am Mahaila, one of the trial of your admittance into Heaven," she said, folding her hands in front of her.

Sam tilted his head, "Did I make it?"

Mahaila smiled lightly and replied, "That is no longer the question at hand."

"Then what is the question at hand?" he asked, taking a step towards her, folding his arms across his chest.

She glanced around the room, walking around Sam and smiling lightly. "This is one of our more fascinating places," she said absentmindedly. "A room that has no beginning and no end, but cannot be entered unless with purpose."

"You didn't answer me," Sam said, furrowing his eyebrows. "You may have all the time in the world, but something tells me that I don't."

"Time is something that has no meaning here, Sam," she responded. Taking a step towards him, she gestured with open arms to the space in front of her again. "Your family changed the trial," she said broadly. "They want you home so badly, they sent an angel and a Nephilim to retrieve you."

"Grace is here?" he said, moving towards Mahaila. "And Cas? What did they say? Can I go home?"

"This would be your home, if you let it," Mahaila said. "We would be your new family. You could watch them from afar, and still be a part of their lives from a safe place, where no harm could ever come to you again."

Sam was already shaking his head, "I'm sorry, don't take this the wrong way, but I have a family. My wife…she's pregnant and my brother and I went to get her and her sister from the demons and then I got stabbed…this is all just a huge shit storm that got out of control…" Sam realized that he was babbling and closed his mouth, waiting for the angel to speak.

"I understand the desire to stay with your family," she said quietly. "I had a family as well, long ago." Moving closer to him, she reached her hand to his chin and smiled, "Eventually, I began to saw others here as my family as well. I care for them as I cared for my husband and children."

"Yeah, well, how did you die?"

"Warm in my bed, many centuries ago," she answered.

Sam pulled away from her touch and shook his head. "That's the difference, Mahaila. I didn't. It wasn't my time to come here."

"Your Nephilim says the same," she said, dropping her hand. There was a moment of silence as Mahaila turned away from him and looked around quietly. "That's why we have decided to send you home."

"Home? I get—" he ran a hand through his hair and took the three steps he needed to close the gap between them. "I can go home?"

Mahaila nodded slowly. "Reversals have happened before. Don't imagine that you are the first one."

The walls that surrounded Sam disappeared at once and there, pacing around the hall, dressed in her red sweatpants and college hoodie, was Grace, unaware that the walls had fallen. Cas, who stood behind her, immersed in his own thoughts, noticed him first. "Sam," he breathed, a smile widening on his face. Grace froze, mid-step and glanced at Castiel. She saw the look on his face and turned, following his gaze across the hallway.

"Sammy!" Grace squealed, running towards him and hugging him fiercely. "Oh, thank God!"

He opened his arms and grinned as her hair whipped him in the face as they embraced. "How?"

Grace stood back and smiled, tears fresh in her eyes. "Cas. On a whim said we had a shot."

Castiel strode over to Sam, slapping his back. Sammy opened one of his arms to gather his friend into a hug as well, almost picking the two of them up as he grinned. "Let's go home," he whispered.

…..

Grace and Castiel stood in the middle of the playground as the connecting tunnel released them back to Earth. Sam had a harder time staying upright, the force of the return to the ground was harder than he expected and his knees buckled under the pressure. Cas offered his hand to help him up and as Sam got to his feet, he noticed that Grace was bent over the grass, holding her hair away from her face.

"Grace?" Sam said, rubbing his knee as he walked towards her. "Are you okay?"

She nodded silently, holding her hand to her mouth. Pointing over her shoulder, she gestured to the doorway to Heaven. "I don't handle that well."

"I think you would handle it fine, but your pregnancy doesn't allow for cross-dimensional travel," Cas said, walking back towards his car.

"Cross-dimensional travel," Sam repeated, chuckling. He looked down at himself, noticing that he was still barefoot and then continued to inspect himself, touching his arms and chest. "I feel different," he said, following Cas. "Do I look different?"

Grace braided her hair and followed the boys, shrugging her shoulders. "I don't think so," she said. "Your eyes might be lighter."

"How is Serra?" Sam asked, getting into Cas' car. "Is she okay?"

"She was sleeping when we left," Grace answered, shrugging, "but she was quiet as me and Jody showered her off." Sam nodded, getting into the car as well.

Cas started the engine, made a u-turn and headed for the Winchesters' home.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Serra and Dean were sprawled out in the living room in silence, after eating mac and cheese when Johnny got up from his place on the rug and trotted to the front door. Dean glanced towards the door from the chair that he laid back in with Liberty asleep on his chest. He and Serra exchanged looks and Serra padded to the chest where she knew Dean kept a loaded pistol. Out of new habit, she glanced at the clock in the kitchen as she ensured the gun was loaded; fifteen hours, fifty-fix minutes. She closed her eyes and rolled her head from side to side and stared at the front door, waiting.

Johnny's tail began to wag as she heard tires in the gravel of the driveway. Breathing a sigh of relief, she put the safety back on the pistol, returned it to the chest for safekeeping as her _sister_ walked through the door. "Grace," Serra whispered, running to hug her, "where the hell have you been?"

"Cas and I had a little errand to run," she said, stepping back. Grace saw the redness of her sister's eyes and hugged her again, pushing the hair from her face. Moving aside, Grace watched Serra as Cas walked through the door, closely followed by Sam.

The silence that flooded the room was palpable. Serra gasped; a ragged, raw, emotional sound, and held her breath. She turned back to Grace and slapped her across the face. "You did _not_ make a deal."

"Ow," Grace sighed, rubbing her face, "No, you moron. Of course I didn't."

"Then I'm hallucinating," Serra whispered, standing close to her sister, unwilling to believe what she was seeing.

"Serra, it's me," Sam said gently, holding his hands out, palms towards his wife. "Grace and Cas came into Heaven and pleaded my case."

Dean stood, then, still holding a sleeping Liberty. "Sammy?" he said, unbelieving himself.

"Pleaded your case?" Serra repeated, shaking her head. "I don't understand. I watched you die."

Slowly, he took another step towards his wife. "I did, Serra, and I ended up in this holding room, waiting to hear if the angels accepted my good deeds over my bad ones. Grace and Cas were fast enough to get to them before they made a decision and reversed it. They let me come home."

Serra was in disbelief, simply staring at her husband, her chestnut eyes examining his face. "I watched you die," she repeated, shaking her head. Sam took another step and Grace moved away, allowing Sam to fill the space. As he moved closer, Serra's instincts were to step away, but she stood, rooted to her spot as her family looked on. Sammy was close now; within arms reach, and Serra locked her jaw, setting her teeth in anger. She hit Sam, closed fist as her eyes filled with tears.

Sam opened his mouth, stretching out his mouth in pain and raised his eyebrows. "Ow," he said, rolling his eyes. "I told you I'm real."

She leaped on him then, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him. He reciprocated quickly, bending at the waist and lifting Serra from the floor. She looked over Sam's shoulder at the clock and smiled as she kissed him: Fifteen hours and fifty-nine minutes.

Grace giggled and put her hands to her mouth, tears leaking from her eyes in happiness. Dean moved to Grace's side and she leaned on his shoulder as he breathed a sigh of relief.

His family was home.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Dean

In the weeks that came, Grace still was on edge, like she was suffering from PTSD: jumping when I entered a room or waking up with nightmares about being taken by the demons or losing Sam. I spent a lot of my time comforting her, which I expected, but late one night, she ended up being the one to comfort me.

She stepped out of the shower as I pulled on boxers, getting ready for bed and I couldn't help but stare at her. I remembered how amazing it had been to watch Liberty change Grace's body, but I didn't remember it happening so fast. It had only been four weeks since we brought the girls home, twelve since we found out about the new baby, but the curve of Grace's belly was exaggerated, bigger than I remember Liberty being at twelve weeks along.

She noticed my stare and raised her eyebrows. "See something you like?" she said, flirtatious.

I nodded, smiling, "Hell yes," I said, coming closer to touch her stomach and kiss her tenderly. She smiled at my contact and answered my thoughts.

"I am bigger than I was with Lib," she said, coming up for air.

Shrugging, "You still look amazing," I said, not trying to cover anything, just speaking the truth. She smiled lightly, staring at her hands, holding something back. "What is it, Grace?" I asked, cutting to the chase.

"There's something that I haven't told you that I probably should have as soon as I got back from Heaven with Cas and Sammy," she started quietly. "I just didn't know what to say."

I stepped away, my anxiety greeting me like an old friend. "Well, now is a good time," I replied, sitting on the bed's edge behind me.

Grace paused and pulled on one of my old tee shirts, the Metallica logo almost completely faded. "I didn't tell you because I still don't know how you'll respond, and honestly, I'm still not sure what to think."

"Words, Grace," I said, feeling like I repeated that phrase a lot.

"Twins," she spit out, "I'm carrying twins."

I knew what she had said, but my brain resisted comprehending it. Shaking my head, I narrowed my eyes. "You wanna run that by me again?"

She moved closer, smiling slowly. "There are two."

"Two of what?" I asked, leaning forward, honestly having no idea what she was talking about.

She approached me slowly, her hands resting on her belly. She tilted her head and knelt down in front of me. "Cas let it slip when we went for Sammy. Said that he could hear two heartbeats and that they were developing nicely."

"Two heartbeats," was all I could say.

"Two heartbeats," she repeated, taking my left hand from my lap and pressing it to the hardness of her abdomen.

Taking a slow, deep breath I found myself shaking my head in disbelief. "Two." She nodded, he eyes welling with familiar tears as she tried to smile. I was quiet for a long time. _Strong swimmers,_ I thought to myself. She nodded at my thought, smiling. "Three under two," I finally breathed, looking up at my beautiful wife. "This should be interesting."


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Sam

Coming back from the dead wasn't something that was unfamiliar to us Winchester boys. We have both died multiple times in the past, and each time we went to the edge, something always ended up different…black eyes, a permanent Mark or the loss of a soul, just to name a few. This time, though, it was pure. I saw everything so clearly; how much I had to be thankful for and how much I had to look forward to in my coming years.

Four months had passed since coming back from Hell and Heaven. Four months of finding routine again, four months of watching my wife grow our child inside of her. Every time I looked at her, I had to remind myself to breathe.

I had watched Grace from afar when she was pregnant with Liberty. Pregnancy was something that was so foreign to me, I really didn't know how to handle it, but watching Serra changed my opinion about it completely. I didn't think it was possible, but I was more in love with her than I ever had been in my life. I found myself hovering around her when we were together, making sure she had what she needed and giving into her every whim.

If given the choice, though, I would not have had Serra and Grace pregnant at the same time. They were easily irritated with each other and snapped often, always complaining about one being in the other's space. I walked in on an argument that I really would have rather stayed out of, but it was kind of a 'wrong place, wrong time,' situation.

I got home from work one evening with both girls at our house, yelling at the top of their lungs at each other, one from in the bathroom and one in the hall. I tried to about-face immediately, hoping to just run across the field, towards the Big House to join Dean in sanctuary, but it was too late. Grace noticed me, mid-yell and turned on me.

"You wife has been in the fucking bathroom for twenty minutes!" she scolded, walking towards me.

I lifted my eyebrows, taking a step back and pointed with my thumb over my shoulder, "Your house has four bathrooms, Grace."

Her eyes widened and her jaw set. "Are you kidding me?" she replied, her voice still louder than normal, her hands on her hips. "How hard is it to pee? We do it every sixteen minutes!"

"Is she okay?" I asked, taking a different route, "If she's been in there so long, maybe she doesn't feel well."

"She's fine, Sam," Grace said, annoyed. "Now she's just doing it to piss me off."

I stared at my sister-in-law, still completely confused, so very quietly, very calmly, I repeated myself. "Your house has four bathrooms, Grace."

"I am _not_ fine!" Serra's voice echoed down the hall, through the bathroom door. "I am _freaking_ out!"

Ignoring Grace, I walked over to the door and knocked gently. "Serra? Why are you freaking out? What's the matter?"

When she answered, her voice was shaky with adrenaline. Obviously, the girls had been at it for awhile, now. "She's done this already! She knows what to expect!" she began, still angry, "I'm only _barely_ at twenty weeks and fucking stretch marks are everywhere, I have to pee all the time, my feet are so swollen, I can't wear any of my boots, my back hurts, and I haven't had a good night's sleep in MONTHS. I'm still in Hell, it just is nicely upholstered!"

"Oh grow up, Serra!" Grace yelled from behind me, "Women have been doing this for _millennia_. Don't think you're special!" She walked back towards the door and rolled her eyes, "Plus, I'm carrying _two!_ It's doubly worse for me. Think about the stretch marks I've got!"

I held up a hand to Grace, trying to calm her down, but I was worried that they were too far gone for me to make a difference. I was probably in way over my head, even _attempting_ to calm either one of them down. I needed reinforcements. I needed Dean.

"Where is Dean?" I asked, turning to Grace.

She crossed her arms in front of her and tilted her head in an irritated way. "I don't give a shit. This is between me and my sister."

"Maybe you guys should just back off and take a break," I said, trying to stay diplomatic. "Why don't you go home and I'll deal with Serra?"

Grace raised her eyebrows and without missing a beat, she said, "Why don't _you_ go to the Big House and _I'll_ deal with the overdramatic _bitch_ in the bathroom?"

Apparently, that was going too far. The bathroom door whipped open, blowing air at Serra's hair and she rushed Grace, going right up into her face. Grace didn't back down, glaring down at her sister in a frightening way. "You leave him alone, _jerk,"_ Serra whispered, just loud enough for Grace to hear.

"Or what," Grace growled back, "you'll breathe heavily on me with your garlic breath?"

I did everything I could not to laugh at how ridiculous they looked, staring each other down, talking about swollen feet, garlic breath, and stretch marks. They were close enough that their bellies touched, cousins being pressed up against each other as their mothers hashed out a fresh batch of pregnancy hormones.

Being the eldest and the taller of the two, Grace had the upper hand and she knew it, looking down at her sister. Grace took a deep breath and continued, not budging from her spot, "Don't be pissed at me that we're pregnant at the same time. If you wanted more attention while you had your time being knocked up, you should have remembered your pill. You knew I was already pregnant."

"You think that's what this is about?" Serra gasped, narrowing her eyes. "This is about you being a know-it-all and always having to be the center of attention, with your _twins…_ I am so sick of hearing how big you are! How hard it is to carry two! Get over yourself, Grace! You're not that awesome!"

I pressed my lips together, still trying to disappear into the shadows. Just then, Dean opened the door, and upon seeing his wife and mine standing toe to toe (or, rather, belly to belly) in the living room, he immediately backed out of the doorway and closed the door behind him. "Oh, _no_!" Serra shouted, breaking ranks to call Dean back into the fray, "you get your ass back in here, Winchester."

From behind the closed front door, Dean replied, "No, I'm sorry. I must have opened the door to adolescence. My mistake."

"Dean Winchester, get in here and control your wife!" Serra screamed, still not moving from her spot with Grace and she stamped her foot on the floor for good measure.

Slowly, Dean opened the door and came into the room, making a face at me as he stepped through the threshold. "Hiya, ladies. How are we feeling this afternoon?" He glanced at me and we did our best to stay stoic, knowing it would only enrage the girls further.

"Blow me, Dean," Serra said, glaring at him.

"Oh, shut up," Grace replied, rolling her eyes.

Dean clapped his hands once, getting their attention. "Enough," he said, "back up from each other, you're makin' me nervous, being that close."

Grace stared at her husband, her eyes narrowing dangerously at him. "Did you just clap at us to get our attention?"

"I figured it was better than yelling at you," he said, reaching for Grace's arm. "Come on, just back off." Unwillingly, Grace allowed herself to be pulled away from Serra. As soon as Grace was clear, I stepped in and gently pulled Serra back to her own neutral corner. "There. Now. What's the big fucking deal with you two?"

Both girls started talking at once about the same ailments that I had already been attacked with. Dean cleared his throat and held up his hands. "Forget it!" he said, taking a deep breath and chuckling to himself. "Look, you are both dealing with being knocked up, we get it. Serra, it's your first time through this shit, and I feel for you, I really do. It's scary as hell and I know that. Grace," he said, turning to face his wife, "you have _got_ to chill out and let her have some of the spotlight. You've done this before. You're all pro." Grace made the effort to argue, but he held up his hand, not allowing her to continue. "I know! Two! I got it. Trust me." She made a face at him and turned away, crossing her arms again. "This can't be good for either one of you. Chill. Get your blood pressure down and go take a bubble bath." Neither sister inched from her spot. "Now. Seriously. Go. Neutral corners." Dean pointed at the kitchen for Serra and towards the front door for Grace.

Serra turned to me, mouth open, wanting to argue further, but I shrugged. "The man has spoken, Sere." I pointed towards the bathroom and said, "Go get undressed. I'll get the bubbles."

Dean pointed towards the door and glanced at Grace, "Get moving, honey."

Rolling her eyes, Grace walked unwillingly towards the door. Dean shook his head lightly at me, a small smirk on the edge of his lips. He followed Grace to the door and ushered her outside, closing it quietly behind him.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I followed Serra down the hall and helped her finish calming down.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Dean

The Browning sisters don't do well together when their hormones are out of whack. Plus, neither one of them can drink, so there's a constant shrill to their voice that needles at the other relentlessly. It's easiest just to keep them separate, but that almost never works. Serra wants to spend time with Lib, Lib wants to go home, but Grace is there, trying to grade papers and the bickering starts all over again. It's really starting to get to me and Sam.

Something I have noticed, though, is that Grace gets along much better with Serra when properly fed and watered and…sexually satisfied. The mornings after we have ourselves a good roll in the hay, Grace is much more patient with Serra's complaints and everyone gets along a little better. I had a theory, so I decided to test it.

On a particularly calm night, the girls were watching a movie with Lib, eating popcorn with their feet up and I sat down next to Sammy at the dining room table, glancing at the books he had spread all over. It looked like research from the good ol' days, but I didn't even bother asking. I knew it was for school.

"They're happy," I said, nodding towards our wives, sitting on the couch in the darkness. "It's nice."

Sam chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, properly fed and relaxed."

"Today was a good day with them," I said, trying to get to my point without being pervy. "I noticed something about Grace about a week ago…she's a lot more patient when she's…content."

"Obviously," Sam said, not looking up.

I shook my head. Sam wasn't getting it. "No, Sammy. I mean…the days when Grace is calm? Those are the days after we've…done stuff."

He looked up at me, his eyebrows getting lost in his mop of hair. "Stuff?"

I closed my eyes and smiled knowingly, "Stuff."

"You're going to have to be more specific."

I sighed and took my last drink of whiskey. "Fine. The days she's happy? We fucked like bunnies the night before."

"Always so eloquent," Sam said, shaking his head. "What's your point?"

Tilting my head at him, I smiled. "Have you noticed a difference with Serra?"

He turned to stare at his wife and made a face. "I dunno," he said. "I haven't really paid that close of attention."

"Try it. See if there's a noticeable difference. We can't keep living on eggshells, man. We've still got fifteen weeks of this shit."

Sammy nodded. "Noted."

…..

Later that night, I pulled Lib from the bath and wrapped her in a towel, dried her hair and put her to bed as Grace cleaned up the kitchen. "Okay, Meatloaf," I said quietly, touching her face, "time for sleep." She closed her eyes slowly and smiled at my touch. "I love you, Liberty Winchester," I whispered as I turned off the light and watched the ladybug night light come on automatically. Closing the door gently, I walked down the hall, still smelling like baby shampoo.

Coming down the stairs, I hesitated at the bottom step, knowing it creaked whenever someone stepped on it. Pausing at staring at my wife's back, I smiled to myself. Not only was I married to that insanely beautiful creature, somehow, she let me keep coming back for more. Staring at her from behind, you would never know that she was even pregnant; the curve of her hips and the small of her waist was pronounced by the clothes she was wearing and as she rolled her head from side to side to release the tension that tended to gather there, all I could think of was how much I wanted her.

I knew she could hear my impure thoughts, because she turned and smiled at me, winking. "Hey, stranger," she greeted as I walked down the last creaky step and joined her in the kitchen. "What's your poison?"

Grace's silhouette was defined by the lights from overhead; the curve of her belly was begging to be touched. I walked up to her and automatically extended my hand to feel the life growing inside. _No,_ I corrected. _L_ _ives. The lives growing inside._ I shook my head, still struggling with the fact that in about three months, I would be dealing with two newborns and a toddler. I was terrified.

The babies moved while I had my hand on Grace and I smiled at the touch. "I'll never get used to that," I said, looking down. "It's creepy. Very Ellen Ripley." Grace stared at me, having no idea what movie I was referring to. I tilted my head, exasperated. "Oh, come on," I said, laughing. _"Alien?_ "

"You're comparing the babies to _Alien?_ Really?"

I rolled my eyes and leaned into her, "Oh shut up," I said, bending to kiss her. I pulled her close, her seven-months-along, pregnant-with-twins belly only slightly getting in the way. Pushing her long, blonde hair back from her shoulder, I traced my fingers down her warm skin and turned her so she was leaning against the island's countertop, away from the dishes she had been drying. I never broke contact with her, just like the old days when she would get flashes from my memories for about three seconds…the days that were simpler, when we were younger.

I lifted her up to the countertop, hands on her ribcage as I continued to kiss her. For once, I was the one tilting my head slightly up; her torso was long and she was slightly taller than me when she sat on the counter. Slowly, I edged my way between her legs, pulling off the blue sweater she wore, revealing the skimpy, strappy tank top she wore underneath. Our breath was coming fast, now, my hands were around her back and she wrapped her legs around my waist.

I knew she was reading me; her ocean blue eyes were open as we finally came up for air momentarily. She smiled lightly and took a deep breath, simply staring. "I love you, too, Dean," she said quietly, stroking my face gently with her hand.

The next thing I knew, I was on the counter with her, leaning against her and pushing her down lightly. I swept the paper towel roll and the stack of Lib's plastic plates and utensils on to the floor and she giggled. She reached to my waist, pulling of the shirt I wore, feeling my bare chest and listening to my heart beat. Slowly, her hand made its way to my arm, finding The Mark as we kissed again. Without breaking contact from her mouth, I pulled off my pants and she shimmied out of her own. We made love on the countertop that night, in the moonlight with the curtains wide open.

Hours later, we were still on the cold marble, touching and kissing sweetly. "My back is killing me," Grace whispered, her eyes crinkling into a smile as she turned towards me.

"Why are you whispering?" I whispered back.

"I feel like it's more romantic when I whisper," she said, grinning.

I laughed and rolled off of the island, standing to help her sit up. I grabbed her pants and panties, her sweater and her shirt, but turning in a complete circle, I shrugged. "I don't know where your bra is."

Grace giggled again and shrugged back. "It'll be a surprise in the morning," she said. She tilted her head slightly, "My _God,_ you're beautiful."

I looked down at myself and shook my head. "I am pretty adorable," I said, smiling and winking at her. Extending my hands, I helped her come down from the island's counter and held her shoulder as she pulled on her pants. She pulled on her shirt and waited as I did the same. Reaching up on her tip toes, she kissed me again and it was difficult not to just push her to the floor and start the process all over again.

"You know," she said, taking a deep breath, "if we don't calm this shit down, we're gonna end up with like, seventeen kids."

Chuckling to myself, I shook my head. "Oh, no, sweetheart. I'm pretty sure we're gonna be stopping with three."

"Well, something medical is gonna have to give," she said, rubbing her lower back. "Obviously, the pill doesn't work with that." Grace gestured to my arm, pointing at The Mark. "And condoms..." she sighed, laughing. "We're not really twenty-one anymore."

"Yeah, well," I said, drifting off, "we'll talk about this when you're not knocked up and pissed at my business. It's not all his fault."

"This is my fault?" Grace asked, laughing. She rested her hands on her belly. "I'm thinking The Mark likes reproducing."

"Probably true," I said, heading to the stairs, holding her hand as I followed in her wake. "But your little nephilim metabolism doesn't seem to give a shit about pills, either."

"Then I'm just gonna stay pregnant all my life?"

Glancing up at her as she climbed the steps, I shrugged. "Hey, I offered, but that ship has sailed, sweetheart. Twins put me over the edge." She swung her hand behind her, mock-slapping my shoulder as we climbed the last of the steps. She stopped in the middle of the hall and listened. We could both hear Liberty snoring softly to herself from her crib.

She pulled me into our bedroom and she smiled as she pushed me onto the bed, climbing in next to me. The next thing I knew, Grace was breathing deeply next to me, sleeping. I turned slightly towards her, my hand on her belly, feeling the babies—my babies move within her.

Twins. I still couldn't wrap my head around it. Liberty was still too young to tell how much I had screwed her up yet and here I was about to have two more to contend with. I still wasn't sure how I was going to handle this. Grace would handle it magnificently, of course, but me…I still had no idea what the fuck I was doing.

At least Sammy and I would be lost together.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Sam

Serra calmed down pretty quickly after Grace left earlier that afternoon. I poured myself a cup of coffee and seeing the look on Serra's face as I took a sip made me regret my decision. "I'm sorry, Sere. You want some decaf?"

She smiled and shook her head. "It's not even worth it," she said, walking towards the cupboard and pulling a glass from the shelf. "I'll just have some…water." I smiled at her as she filled her glass, "I know, you're jealous, aren't you?"

I nodded and dumped my cup of coffee, setting my mug on the counter and getting my own glass from the shelf, filling it from the tap. She rolled her eyes at me as I took a long drink. "What?"

"You just wasted an entire cup of coffee."

All I could do was chuckle and shake my head. "There's no pleasing you, is there? How much longer until the baby is born?"

"Ugh," Serra said, walking away from me in mock frustration. "Too long. It's not fair that Grace gets to have hers before me. I'm so _tired_ of being pregnant."

I chose not to respond and instead just wrapped her in my arms and kissed her forehead. Reaching down slowly, I put my hand on Serra's rounded belly, much smaller than her sister's, verifying in my head that she was only carrying one. For that I was excessively grateful. She bent her head and watched my hand momentarily and then, reaching up on her tip toes, she kissed me tenderly.

There was a hunger deep in my soul for the woman carrying my child. It was primal. Hearing Dean's words in my head about keeping her sexually satisfied, I smiled to myself as I wrapped myself around her and pressed myself against her. She reciprocated quickly, as she always did, and allowed me to pull her shirt off, over her head. She wasn't wearing a bra and I grinned at her, lifting my eyebrows.

"Get used to it, Winchester. Everything hurts. I haven't worn one in days," she said, a touch of Browning Sister attitude seeping into her voice again.

I shook my head and laughed, "I'm not complaining," I said, leaning back towards her and attacking her neck. She gasped in response, dropping her pants, sending me into a frenzy and we both collapsed onto the floor in the kitchen. I pulled her on top of me after losing my own jeans and she wasted no time finding a rhythm.

Having sex with Serra was volatile, explosive, and fiery. It always had been. She held my arms to the floor as she rocked, kissing me deeply. I didn't know if it was the pregnancy hormones or the fact that she was finally starting to be herself again after spending months being tortured in The Pit, but finally, I knew that I was starting to have my Serendipity back. She cried out, biting her lip as we came together, I pushed against the grip of her hands on my wrists and released the air I had been holding in my lungs.

Serra collapsed, exhausted, on top of me, trying her best to lay on my chest, but her belly was in the way. She laughed and rolled off of me and lay next to me on the floor.

The next weeks that followed, the girls' both began to creep to the edge of their pregnancies. I would watch the sisters make dinner together or talk in hushed tones with their bellies pressed up against each other. Dean was right, as long as Serra and Grace stayed sated, they were happier with each other. The hormones stayed in check.


	30. Chapter 30

**I wanted to take a minute to thank everyone for coming along on this ride with me. I am having a blast and I hope you enjoyed Domestic. More is coming...soon you'll get to know a younger Grace and Serra. Thanks so much for reading! xoxo **

...

Chapter 30

Dean

The farther the girls got along in their pregnancies, the more freaked out Serra and I both got. Serra was almost in full panic mode by the time October showed her ugly face and was attached to Grace's hip most of the time they were both home. I was in full panic mode because I was about to be a father of three, two of which would be born at the same time in the coming weeks. I wasn't ready.

I came home from the shop one night to Serra standing in the middle of the kitchen, watching Grace and Jody cooking dinner. Liberty sat in front of the TV, watching some puppet show singing about autumn and I greeted her by kissing her on her head. She stood and bounced around in front of me, singing the song with the characters on the show. I couldn't believe my eldest would be two in a month. Glancing up at Grace, she was staring at us with a smile on her face. Her belly was stretched as far as it would go; carrying twins was nothing to shake a stick at. Jody bustled around the girls, getting plates from the cupboard, counting six in her head (Sam and Serra were almost never at their own house these days…Serra refused to leave Grace's side.)

Walking over to Grace, I put my hand out to greet the twins and leaned in to kiss my wife. She looked exhausted. "How do you feel?"

Shrugging, Grace tilted her head. "Okay. I'm just so tired." She took a bite of the bread she held and smiled, lifting her eyebrows. "Double doctor's appointment today. Took Sere with me."

I glanced over at my sister-in-law, who hadn't moved since I walked in and smiled. "Everything good?"

Serra didn't acknowledge me. I turned back to Grace and made a face, "What's with Luck?"

Grace grinned. "She's having a difficult time grasping the fact that she's due in nine weeks." She leaned her arm across her own stomach and smiled down at it. "Doc says I go on maternity leave Friday," she explained, looking back up at me. "He says we're gonna try not to have another c-section. Says everyone is doing well."

"Wow, really?" I walked to the fridge and grabbed a beer, sidestepping Serra. "Is he gonna let you go into labor on your own?"

Grace shrugged. "That's what he says. Told me today that he can't understand why I don't have a c-section scar from Liberty." She grinned. "I guess I just forgot to tell him that I'm half and half."

I took a swig of my beer and chuckled. "You're a medical marvel."

"A baby is gonna come outta me," Serra said suddenly, drawing our attention away from each other. "I can't do this. I'm not ready."

Jody stood next to her and patted her back, "Oh, sweetie. Women are made for this! You'll be fine."

Serendipity was still shaking her head, staring in Grace's direction. I took that as a hint to finish up dinner and set the table with Jody, who followed me towards the dining room table.

I watched Grace approach her sister, smiling gently. "Lucky, we've talked about this."

"I've seen women give birth, Grace. It was part of my internship. It was part of my degree. I can't do this. I wasn't prepared to do this." Serra was talking in short, panicked sentences, slightly breathless.

Grace put her hands out, stopping the stream of words coming from her sister's mouth. "Stop, Serra, stop. You're freaking out because we just went to the doctor. It's still fresh in your mind," she said. "Jody's right. This is natural."

Serra finally moved from her spot in the kitchen to point to her niece. "Liberty wasn't natural. Liberty almost killed both of you."

"It was the fight we had…remember? The battle with the battalion of angels? That wasn't natural either! I would have delivered her just fine if that hadn't happened."

Still doubting Grace, Serra began pacing around the kitchen. "No, Grace, this is bullshit. I wasn't ready for a baby. I found out I was fucking pregnant in Hell, Grace! Hell! That can't be a good sign!" She took a deep, ragged breath and continued, "What if I go into labor and no one is here? What if I drop the kid right in the middle of the living room?"

"Serra, stop," Grace said, her voice full of finality. "You're a fucking NICU nurse and you know how to handle this. You do this professionally."

"No," she said, still arguing. "I keep babies _alive_ professionally. I don't give _birth_ professionally!"

"I've done this before. It's not that bad."

"No, Lib was _cut_ out of you. You were _unconscious_."

Grace obviously was at a loss. "I know, Serra. I'm trying to stay calm for you." Slowly, I watched Grace move closer to her sister, trying to get her to stand in one place. "I'm freaking out, too. What the fuck am I supposed to do with twins?"

"I'll make you a deal," Serra said, her voice dropping low. "I'll keep all of the babies alive once we all get home if you give birth for me."

"If I could, kiddo," Grace moved towards Serra and wrapped her arms around her neck, "trust me, I would." The sisters embraced and after a few minutes, they were both nodding and reassuring each other quietly. They might have started to feel better, but as soon as Serra said the word 'babies,' my heart skipped a beat and I chugged my beer.

Twins. There would be two.

Sam came in the back door a few minutes later, Johnny following closely behind. Lib squealed and ran to meet her playmate; hugs for Johnny and sloppy, wet kisses for Liberty as we walked towards the table. Sam glanced towards me and nodded at the girls, still talking quietly in the kitchen. I shook my head at him as he walked towards me. "They're just going through their daily freak out," I said quietly. "I'm about to join them, this time."

Sam patted my back. "They're just babies," he answered. "You have dealt with demons and vamps and werewolves. Don't let the babies scare you."

I glared at him and shook my head. "You don't know, man. Just you wait."

During dinner, Jody announced that she would be moving out about a month after the babies were born. "I'm transferring to Lawrence, though," she said, "and I'll find my own place close by."

"What?" Grace gasped, "Twins, Jody! There's going to be three children in this house and another one over there!" Serra was nodding, agreeing with her sister. "You can't leave us now."

"I'm not leaving, honeybee. I'll just be down the way a bit. I can't extend my leave any longer and I'm too young to retire. They won't let me. I'd have to resign."

Grace shut her eyes, Serra looked like she was about to cry and Sammy and I just stared at her. I hadn't realized how much we had come to depend on her. I remembered, not too long ago, that Jody had mentioned to me that she was running out of leave. I knew she had extended it longer than she should have when Grace and Serra had been taken to Hell. She made sure that Liberty was cared for while we figured out how to bring the girls home, but now I remembered the conversation. She was out of time.

"I've already cleared it with my Captain," Jody was saying, "he's got some friends out this way and found me a nice office to work out of, near Grace's school, actually."

Helping Liberty eat her food, Grace glanced up. "If you're leaving, I don't know how much longer it will be my school," she muttered. "We won't be able to afford childcare. It's ridiculous."

"So don't go back," I said quietly, locking eyes with my wife. It was the same conversation we had when she battled with going back after having Lib. She didn't argue right away, so I pushed forward. "You stay home with the kids, and let me be the breadwinner, like we talked about." Grace was searching for an argument, I knew it, but I forced my way through. "When Serra goes back to work, take theirs too, have yourself a little daycare center, and you'll get to be with the babies, using your degree and all that bought education to raise them right."

I watched as Serra's eyes lit up and she hit Sam in the shoulder. They had obviously been at a loss with what to do with the baby when she went back to work. This was a solution that everyone could be on board with.

Sammy looked doubtful. "That's a lot of kids for her to contend with all at once," he said quietly, mostly to his wife. "Three infants and a toddler? That might be hard, even for a nephilim."

"Are you kidding?" Serra said, shaking her head. "This is the kind of shit that Gracie does."

All eyes turned to my wife, waiting for her to weigh in on the conversation. She sat, still feeding Liberty and raised her eyebrows. "I knew I would end up here," she said, smiling softly, "but yeah. It feels right."

"You'll do it?" Serra's voice was demanding. "Really?"

Grace pursed her lips and smiled at me. "You win."

I smiled at my wife and felt relief spread through me. I hadn't realized how much I wanted her staying home with the kids, keeping them safe. I remembered being at home with my own mom, before Sammy was born, before she was killed. She hadn't worked when I was little, and I had very vivid memories of her building with Legos with me, coloring, and making me sandwiches with the crusts cut off. I wanted that for my kids.

Sammy nodded, too, grinning. He was happy with the decision as well, knowing that his kid would be well cared for by his or her aunt.

As I watched, joy returned at our farm table. As Serra and Sam talked quietly to each other, Jody fed Liberty and Grace and I stared at each other from across the table. I smiled at her, winking.

 _Barefoot and pregnant,_ I thought towards my wife, remembering the constant arguments we had about her staying home.

She shook her head, hearing my thought and grinned. She held her water glass with her elbow propped up on the table and pointed down. I didn't understand immediately, so she mouthed, "Look under the table."

I glanced under, seeing her feet crossed next to mine. They were bare. Grinning, I looked back up at her and smiled. "Three is enough."

"Just keep telling yourself that."


End file.
